#he knew it but didn’t indulge me because it was probably so awkward for him and I had NO IDEA

[sundrlands]

‘significance’ j. sunderland x reader

minors dni

cw: light face slapping, light scent kink, sub/top j. sunderland x dom/bottom reader, oral, breath play if you squint, breeding kink, light spit play, dry humping. no depictions of specific characterizations in regards to the reader’s looks. reader has she/her pronouns.

summary: what happens when two deprived people meet by accident? a server and that odd man who’d always come to drink coffee every morning at 6am. from awkward conversation to a dinner that turned into rough, needy indulgence. it was easy, a deprived little thing like him… it was just too significant.

a/n: this is years after the events of sh— no mentioning of the events either. forgive me if this is all over the place… it’s definitely a long one. i kind of went wild while writing this one. there’s more smut than there is plot but nonetheless… i hope you enjoy my very first james sunderland fic.

there he goes again… that odd man… in the same spot he’d always sit in. the farthest table by the window with no one to accompany him besides himself.

james… that was his name. james sunderland.

he was kind enough to tell you this after the tenth time he’d come in. you didn’t have to ask or even tell him your own name… mostly because you didn’t know how to approach that level of conversation. you were just a server— giving the customers phony smiles, a ‘hi, how can i help you today?’ and the fakest kind of enthusiasm when any other would try to offer a joke out of curtesy.

yet something about him… his somber eyes— with light wash of rosy pink coloring the bags underneath them— that looked as if he was deep in thought… as if he were to be troubled by something… or someone from his past… the short stubble that grazed over his chin and upper lip, and his body language that seemed as if he never wanted to be bothered or probably never slept. his gaze always wandered around the diner, out the window or at the soft ripples within the mug he’d hold. sometimes… you found him staring at you, nervously looking away whenever your eyes connected. you never understood why though or what he could be thinking each time he looked at you, so you never asked or gave it much question.

james was just a stranger who came at the same time, almost every single day— six in the morning, as the sky still glowed its grey hues— not a minute early. not a minute late. the bell from the diner’s door ringing loud and brash with the thick of his boots stepping on every creaking, rotten floor board.

each time he’d come, you’d watch him to see if he’d do anything different. maybe he’d add in a sugar packet… two or three… or maybe he’d get a breakfast sandwich like mr.colemen always did— the trucker who you knew had a wife but still flirted with the older cook, ms.miles on tuesdays— or maybe he’d bring in someone he knew to occupy his time… he didn’t. it was the same each time. he’d arrive, ask for seating and sit— not wanting anything else but his coffee— black. no sugar. no cream, just like he liked it he said. he’d watch the steam from his cup vanish until it ran cold then take his sips that felt like a lifetime in between each one.

you couldn’t lie… you were fairly intrigued by him… it wasn’t as if you hadn’t had regulars come in just as much he does, if not more, but something about him seemed different… the expression he always wore… he always seemed so lost in thought yet… so attentive in his surroundings. something in you wanted to know who he was.

each time you gave him a cup of his favorite black coffee, you couldn’t help yourself but try to formulate conversation after he gave out his name… but he was always just so fucking vague… each sentence he spoke was watered down— that trickled slow like shallow water… simplistic and dry, running in a soothing hum.

it was pretty. the way he spoke.

you told him that too. a gentle, ‘you have a nice voice’ after he sung a sweet ‘thank you’ after setting the coffee down in front of his hands. he was awkward about it, like he hadn’t received a compliment like this one or a compliment at all. no words given other than that, having the conversation run flat and you walking away in regret thinking, ‘maybe that was too much’.

it only took one day when you had been off shift to see him sitting at a park bench, the one at the end of the town with his hands in his pockets, back slouched and those same somber eyes staring into the park’s pound to finally sit next to him and not feel the dynamic imbalance hit you like how it did in the diner.

“james!” your breath creating its soft clouds within the cold air as you softly spoke, vanishing as it rose.

“ah!” he hummed, “funny to see you here.” he looked at you… the blonde strands flowing against the wind, his attention fully on you instead of him quickly trying to look away. it was direct, like he stared from within your body… you didn’t expect a person like him to have such good eye contact… it almost made you nervous.

“no coffee today?” you replied, offering a smile.

“afraid not. im just on my lunch break… needed some fresh air.”

“may i ask where you work? hope that’s not improper of me to ask.” you laughed quietly, taking a real good look at him. he was almost like a statue… a rugged one. his lack of fashion sense…and his ability to hold so much expression all the while it being so bland and so cold.

he chuckled, shaking his head as he turned his head back towards the pond, “no… no it’s not ‘improper’. it’s just an office job. pretty boring id say.”

“fitting.” you replied, “not that you’re boring! just… seems like a occupation you’d have is all.”

“i wouldn’t say that you’re wrong even if you did say that.” giving yet another humming chuckle.

you stayed for the time he had to spare. the conversation going just as you thought it would… awkward but he was sweet nonetheless. though it was the way it was, his words flowed with every sentence he spoke, like the gentle stream of the pond in front of you both or the thick clouds that scattered in the grey sky. it took you just a few moments to notice how pretty that man was. he exuded such odd comfort… and warmth that made you want to keep talking to him. listen to anything he said even if it meant nothing or sounded humorously stupid.

“well.” he sighed, grunting as he stood, “id love to keep… talking, but i have to go back.”

you nodded, exchanging your goodbyes as you watched him walk down the park’s path until his body disappeared in the distance.

and so, from then on it had been easier to talk to him. finding any way to get to know more about the odd man who only drank black coffee and stared at you from time to time. it started just at your workplace, quick and steady back and forth talk then at the park, then offering a time to spend together on your off day for breakfast.

that was the first time he had something other than coffee. it was the first time you saw him smile more than once… not a faint one… a real one— seeing how his teeth jumbled at the bottom of his mouth or the harsh smile lines appear by the sides of his lips.

the more you looked, the more you conjured how pathetic of a man james really was. his life seemed so dull… just like the springs occasional showers and faded blue skies… but he was like the sweetness of june— the warmth within this man was little to none but still, he captivated you with his odd charm even if he tried or didn’t. you couldn’t help yourself but to think it was so easy to get him flustered, to have him smile whenever you showed interest in whatever he spoke about… like a lost puppy who finally got attention after being alone for so long.

a slip of a compliment flowed in almost every other sentence, seeing him stutter in his words, choking up a thank you whenever he could. it was amusing… like an addiction. sewing your way into his life was oh so significant. he considered you a ‘friend’ to put it lightly, one who obviously stared at you whenever you weren’t looking: like at the pier. you stood in front of him, hearing the crows sing and the water waves crash against the wood— he’d eye down your frame, seeing the way your clothes hugged your form… dissociating the world’s music around you both with an open mouth and twiddling fingers.

each time, you acted as if you hadn’t noticed and maybe you were just that good for him to not pick up on it whenever you failed to mention or question why he’d stare so goddamn much. it didn’t matter anyway, you liked it just as much as he liked staring at you.

he’d sit stiff, noting how erect his back would be whenever you placed your hand on his shoulder, a soft grip given as you both spoke about whatever. he’d clear his throat whenever you stood a little too close to him, rubbing the tapered part of his hair on the back of his head with a line of ‘uh’ and ‘ums’ in between each word he spoke.

god… this man was just so pathetic.

“why don’t we have dinner?” you smiled as you turned towards him, the bustling chatter amongst the passing people as you both walked down the same park you and him had your first real conversation.

“oh.” he chirped, a quiet laugh intertwined in his speech, “sure. where?”

“my house.” you answered confidently. through the few months of you being his ‘friend’, it only seemed right, so you told him. you wanted him in a place of vulnerability. to rule out every other being that’d pass by or surround you while in public. you just wanted it to be you and him. him and you. “if that’s fine by you. im not too bad of a cook.”

“your house?” his voice fell flat but it was nothing that worried you. the ring of his monotone voice was thick and with how he reacted to your small gestures, you knew he was more than willing to oblige. “you don’t mind me… coming to your house?”

you gave a little nod and he gave a gentle smirk. james didn’t know what could happen once the dinner would happen but he had no reason to disagree… or even want to. he grew accustomed to your company, more than any coworker he had that tried to gather him for night drinks after tough shifts… or even the women who were so abrupt in their interest in him… the thin pencil skirts and revealing blazers. he didn’t care.

a date was given. four days from then after his early ending shift. and so time flew. he hadn’t come to the diner at six in the morning like he did, he wasn’t even at the spots he’d sit during his breaks from work. a part of you had been worried if he tried to avoid you, wondering why you haven’t seen him since your request. he wasn’t good at texting— sending him a ‘hi’ would only result to him replying a ‘hey’ three days later. you almost didn’t buy the groceries you needed to prepare or an outfit that wasn’t too much but definitely would grasp his attention.

luckily you did.

it had been the day and it was five in the afternoon, the sun setting itself and the wind blowing more rapidly, flowing with the night’s usual atmosphere. james stood at your door with the address you gave him not too long after he agreed for the dinner you proposed. he just stared at it’s wood, his heart racing without his mind fully understanding why. he was a grown man but too afraid to see your face until this very moment. so he’d stay in the house longer than he needed to without going to the diner in the mornings. he’d stay in his cubicle on his lunch break, finishing any extra assignments he needed done for his boss.

moments spent with his feet planted on the ground before he gave three knocks at your door. he waited, only for a minute before you opened the door. you were dressed so nicely opposed to his work outfit still on and the light fragrance of the food fumigating in the air, hitting his nose.

“you’re here.” you spoke, relieved that he hadn’t stood you up. “come in.”

and so he did. small talk was given, complimenting your abode and trinkets you had scattered all about, admiring the personality your home gave opposed to his apartment that was just there… only the essentials, almost soulless. you thanked him of course, going on about little things as he listened before you finished all that needed to be done for dinner— it was pasta. simple and easy to not fuck up.

two plates placed with wine in crystal glasses and forks being spun. you connected over the flavor of the sauce and the warmth of the garlic bread that complimented the pasta. everything went smoothly, more than you thought it would’ve. easy conversation with the add in of knowing more about who james was… though he was his usual vague self.

you couldn’t pinpoint why he had been or what was truly on his mind. in certain instances, he’d drift off, his eyes wavering with a slow chew before ending his sentence with something mundane. your curiosity kept prodding with each question you gave— he didn’t show feeling of intrusion but he wrapped around certain topics leaving you needing more to be answered.

it felt like twenty one questions… moreso… him answering yours than you were with his but his composure and hospitality hadn’t changed from his kind and awkward demeanor he’d always give. it took awhile before you realized you had been digging in his chest like a crow on a rotting corpse before you covered your mouth with a soft, inaudible gasp.

“ive been blabbering…” you say, shyly laughing as you continued the last of what was left on your plate.

“no.” he responded, his voice trickling like soothing raindrops against a windowsill, “you’re just curious.”

“that i am.” your eyebrows raising as you sipped the bitter red liquid of your wine, “but you’ve had enough.”

he shook his head, wiping his mouth with a nearby napkin as he gulped, “i enjoy the conversation. i just have a lot in my past im not too fond of is all.” you noticed his eyes again… that troublesome look… the blank stare. whatever happened seemed to had never left him. james was like a puzzle piece… all scattered… some pieces missing so the full picture could never be seen or even admired.

“don’t we all…” pursing your lips as you set your glass down, “…but that’s the beauty of life, yes? it’s shitty… things come and go. regret… wrapped in solace. but that only means you can make happier memories.” trying to be positive to remove anything he had stored in thought.

you saw his shoulders relax from its usual tension, his eyes finding their way towards yours with a thick silence being transferred between you two. “yeah.” he spoke, breaking the silence momentarily before it fell back. the white noise… the gentle buzz cradled your eardrums, sitting like a stone in both of your seats.

the contact between your eyes spoke a million words… ones that haven’t been spoken out loud— it was of interest, undeniable lust. from his constant gaze from when you once were strangers… his usual order of coffee, to the moments you spent together in numerous places to now. those pretty light eyes shook as they bounced from each part of what your body showed at the table. they were quick… hungry… without any hesitancy. he dared not to look away, enjoying the visual of your being in a place with no one around, just you both.

as for you… the feeling of his eyes felt like fire caressing your skin… as if his wherever his pupils directed themselves, you could feel. it felt like fingertips gliding underneath the fabric of your clothes… just as when he ate… the way his lips latched onto the silver of his fork— the unintentional sensual gesture as he slid it from his mouth and chewed. the coat of spit that was left across it, and the delicate way he held onto the spine of the wine glass. you wanted to replace the flavor of your homemade sauce with the flower of your labia… to feel the latch of his lips against your breast or on the sides of your neck. the way he ate gave you an intense feeling of need… greed… swelling indulgence. not to mention his goddamn voice… the voice you were already so found over— the subtle cracks and dips between certain vowels… how deep it was… how gentle it felt amongst the silence.

“james..?” you questioned, tilting your head slightly, almost in a trance by the tone of your voice.

he gulped roughly, already sensing whatever you were going to say by the look you gave. “yes?”

“may i kiss you?” the words flowing softly within a sigh, holding your breath as you waited for his answer.

he just stared at you, eyes blinking like a cat in comfort as he continued to stare. moments past… which felt like hours before he nodded.

you stood from your seat, his attentiveness not failing to follow you in whichever way you went, slowly walking towards him with your hand sliding against the rough stubble on his face. he exhaled through his nose, his eyes shutting closed, his body melting into your touch as if he longed for such embrace. he hummed… the vibration flickering against the tips of your fingers before you felt the warm air of his exhale against your lips. slowly you leaned, shaky breaths with a soft press of the lips.

his lips were so soft yet stiff, a long press, occupying the other side of his face with yet another hand, pulling his face closer to yours as you deepened it. james let you lead, his rough calloused hand grazing against your wrist with a gentle grip, simultaneously pulling you closer to his embrace.

at the touch of his lips, you felt yourself get jolted with pleasure in between your legs, the softness rushing to a hungered one— his lips opening, allowing your tongue to push through and taste the sweetness of his of spit. his mouth was warm and the muscle of his tongue slid into yours as spit started to slide down his chin… quickening breaths and an even louder hum than he ever gave.

with the sharp sound of the chair scraping against the floorboards, he scooted back, you unconsciously sitting onto his lap just to feel the growing bulge against his work pants. you sat right on it, feeling it press against your clothed cunt with a groan that wrapped around your tongue and down your throat. he felt big, and the throb of it excited you, having your hips think on its own with a heavy yet slow rut.

the hands that held onto your wrist fell at your hips, the tightness of his fingers digging into you as if he’d never want you to leave from his touch. your bodies molded into one, your breasts pressing against his heaving chest with your hands now gripping the back of his neck.

at release, your forehead pressed against his… his deep gasps sounding pathetic and irregular, lips ajar, trying to savor the feeling of your lips that were once on his. the creek of the chair upon your slow grinds were loud and obnoxious but that didn’t stop you from adding on more friction, loving the feeling of his hardening cock against you.

“let me… do what i want to you… let me make you feel good.” you whispered against his lips, feeling your words being sucked from his quickening gasps.

“please.” he whined… a sound you’d never heard before from a man, let alone one of business. his willingness in the subtle acceptance of him submitting to you had your mind fill with haze. the glisten of his eyes pleaded for something… anything… like he had never been touched before. “please…”

his face leaned in the crook of your neck, his nose nudging against the warmth of your skin, sharp inhales, devouring the perfume that coated it. light peppering kisses lining up and down, all along the side of your jaw. a smile crept up on your lips… you knew just from the sight of him that he was just a pathetic little thing. and with the way he acted just from a kiss… how hard he got with you sitting on his lap, you knew that whatever you did he’d grant you a reaction that would be better than any man has ever gave you or will give you.

you gripped the back of his head, a drunken stare as his lips still purse from the abrupt release of his kiss. “wait.” you breathed, pressing your finger in the center of his lips. he was so tantalizing… his eyes drooped with anticipation, knowing that since he has you now… his self control was little to none.

at the side of you finger, he kissed it, holding onto your wrist as you placed another finger against his lips. you watched and he watched you— his mouth slowly opening and guiding his fingers against his tongue. with hallowed cheeks he began to suck, bobbing his cute head down to the knuckle. curling your fingers, you felt his tongue slither in between, spit messily sliding down your palm and arm.

“good boy..” you praised, your voice in sync with the sounds of his sucks— a deeper whine trembling against your fingers at the sudden pet name.

you grinned, cocking an eyebrow at his reaction. he liked that? you thought. seems fitting.

sliding your fingers from his mouth, you gripped his chin, a gentle press given, “watch me.” you whisper and with a pull at your top, he watched. his eyes directing themselves at your breasts with an even quicker and excited exhale exuding from his whining lips. eyebrows furrowing at the need to touch, his hands hesitantly removing from your hips and curling, waiting for the okay to be able to grope them upon your request. unclasping your bra, they drooped prettily in his face, letting whatever you took off hit the floor beside the chair.

“come on pretty boy… touch them.” you slurred, your voice seductive, teasing him, watching how his eyes never left, just opening at the sight of your bare breasts. “i know you want to.”

he sighed, one that was pent up and riddled with eagerness. “oh my god…” his voice shook. james was driven by the lustrous nature of your body. captivating by the sounds that fell from your lips and the commands you spewed— each word directed itself at his cock, feeling it twitch and tighten at his pants. the way you were entranced by his eyes as he was with yours, looking up at them with admiration, need and desire that festered throughout his body, making him burn at the touch.

doe and gentle with a sweet song flowing in the disguise of a moan he sung. the single free strands laying against his skin, complimenting with the reds that blossomed at his cheeks.

‘i want her… i need her… all of her… i want it. i want it. i want it. i want it.’ he chanted in his brain— feeling as if he was going to pass out at how hard he was breathing— his hot mouth curling at the warm bud of your breast, tongue flicking at it’s hardened tip, pulling back with the gentle graze of his teeth until a pop was heard, pressing a series of kisses around your breasts.

you were drunk off the man. that poor pathetic odd man. his body calling for more… groping your breasts with vigor, feeling the shortness of his nails digging and molding them to his liking… and the little broken noises he made, so soft and sweet, higher than his usual tone. a fleeting glint of mischief glistened in your eyes, letting out a chuckle.

“that’s it…” your voice trailed, lifting your hips, starting to bounce on his lap, granting a broken moan to feather against your nipple.

“god… fucking dammit..” he exhaled, gritting his teeth as his body sunk into the chair, his feet planted harsher on the floorboards, bucking his hips upward, feeling the weight of you created more friction, his swelling cock pulsating. “don’t stop… please.” he whined, eyes squinted as drool fell from the side of his trembling lips.

your hands running in his warm blonde strands, “that’s a good boy.” you tightened your gasp, pulling it with a yank. he blinked slowly with a coo, “you like it when i bounce on it?” you teased.

he nods. his poor hips already tiring out, them stuttering at every upwards thrust. “yes ma’am… fuck it feels… it feels so good.”

planting your hands at his chest, you felt the fast pace of his heart, running your palms up his body until your fingers wrapped around his slender neck— each digit falling into his skin, hearing his strain. “poor baby… you wanna feel more don’t you?” you grunted, his head tilted back with your face hovering his. with a slight cock of your hand, it collided with the softness of his cheek, a loud yelping moan bouncing along the dining room walls.

“fu… fuck…” he stuttered, his lips almost at pout.

no woman had ever treated him this way, so rough and teasing and you hadn’t even fucked him yet. his nerves was heightened as his cheek burned with the faint remnants of your palm. never did he think he’d enjoy something like this, in fact… he was left speechless. the sight of his eyes looking more pleasing than they already looked. they never looked away from you, wanting to get every expression you gave… watching your lips as they continued to taunt him, needing to see the way your breasts bounced as you continued to rut against his lap above his pants.

“oh?” you chirped, noticing the deepening submission in his glare. “you liked that didn’t you?” your hips now stopping in its place.

weakly, he laughed, “i do.” his voice still so sultry and deep.

leaning closer to his face, your lips feathered his, exchanging breaths with shared smiles, “go on your knees and take it out for me.” your other hand sliding down slow until it cupped his bulge. removing yourself from his lap, now standing.

he lifted himself off the chair, taking off his bottoms and boxers. there he sat, like an obedient little thing, on his knees— his thick dick laying and jerking at every throb as it laid so delicately against his thigh— staring up at you adoringly with gleaming eyes, as if he had been admiring a star.

it wasn’t as if you necessarily thought about what he looked like underneath his boxers, but the sight of it made your eyes sparkle— it was so thick and long, it made your mouth water.

“james…” shocked and even more turned on at how pretty his dick was. the light graze of his brown pubes looking well kept. “fuck it’s so pretty.” running your finger down its side, hearing the most pathetic moan fall from his lips— his fists balling at the sudden touch. “needy little thing you are.”

it was cute. from the little slap you gave him and the way he wanted you to have your way, it only fed into the desire to treat this boy with some excitement. that dull life he had was now changed as thoughts puddled at your brain seeing this man look so weak as you stood to look at him.

“such a pathetic… pretty man.” you cooed, tilting your head, “and look at your dick.” his eyes dropping to watch it leak and pool at the flesh of his thigh. “it’s excited for me isn’t it?”

his fingers wrapping around his shaft, needing some type of friction… it was starting to get painful with how long it hadn’t been touched bare. whenever he was turned on in the comfort of his home, he’d jerk himself off until he fell asleep. over and over again until his wrist burned and his throat dried. he had no self control and with you around, he could cum just from your voice.

“take your hand off.”

“god i just…” he whimpered.

“mmh mmh.” your head shook, as you bent down, “hands off. i tell you when you can and can’t, do you understand?” placing your finger underneath his chin to raise it, seeing gentle plea in his eyes.

“yes ma’am.”

he felt belittled, unable to control his own person. a quick shiver fell down his spine, leaning closer into your embrace… just the soft touch of your finger gave him a bolt of pleasure. knowing if he touched himself, you’d slap him in retaliation. oh how he so desperately wanted that.

you unzipped your pants, stepping out from them, alongside your panties, already dripping against the inner of your thigh. placing a palm at the top of his head, your fingers gripped tight, angling yourself in front of his face.

he gulped roughly, staring at the swelling of your clit. “lick it.” without hesitation, his face fell in between your legs, his curved nose nudging against your clit as he inhaled, lapping his tongue in between the folds of your pussy.

the scent of it drove him wild— eyes rolling back as he continued to inhale, loud enough for you to hear. he smothered himself, the muscle of his tongue thickening with his lips latching it just to get the taste of you fully.

you were taken aback at how skilled his tongue was, how his nose stimulated your clit so lovingly with each bob of his head. obnoxious sucks radiated in the air with his fingers clasping against your thighs, hard enough to hurt.

moans trickled from your throat, gasping on the thick of the air, guiding him with the hand that gripped his hair. his tongue plunged deeply into your pussy, feeling his mold his muscle inside of your fleshy walls, thrusting his head to fuck your opening.

you felt yourself already needing to cum and that has never happened before. at least not this quick. the softness of his lips sucked so roughly and his tongue flicked so fast, your knees buckled inward, unable to keep up with the pace of his mouth.

“james…” your moans heightening in volume, your chest deepening after every breath you took, “your fucking mouth…”

his hair, all tattered and messy, with his eyes reddened from it almost tearing up because of the lack of air he was given, not stopping for a second as he drank in your arousal and your moans. a tingling sensation bounced off his body, circling through each part of his limbs.

the sounds of his sucks almost overpowering your moans itself, as he felt your meaty pussy flutter in and out his mouth loving how full you made his mouth.

“i can’t stop,” he gasped against your cunt, “it’s just so good… i love it, i fucking love it. fuck… fuck…” nothing in this man’s brain could made him stop. it was like he pushed himself in between your legs like he wanted to be apart of you— keeping his strength in his neck to keep his same motion.

removing himself to breathe, he gathered spit, directing at your clit and watching it drip before catching it in his mouth, rolling his tongue along the hood of your clit before latching on with hallowing cheeks. sucking in air, your body curled forward, feeling two of his fingers slide in the opening of your pussy. they curved as they started with long strides.

that ‘odd’ man surely knew how to please a cunt. fingers picking up its pace with the loud wet sounds interweaving the moans you both sung. “yes… yes… james…” you panted, his wrist steadying, feeling you leak against and down his knuckles. your walls clamping on his fingers like a heartbeat.

“im gonna..” you announced, your body trembling more than you could even control, your legs giving out with him quickly holding you up as much as he could— his face deepening in your cunt, grunting as he felt you cum against his tongue.

“mmmhm” he hummed over and over again, feeling you shudder against his face.

falling to your knees, your face was angled with his— his mouth wet all from his nose down to his chin. the sight of you, trying to compose yourself from the orgasm you had made him feel dizzy. “feel good?” he whispered, trailing your face from where it hung low, catching your lips. you could taste yourself on his lips, running your tongue at the flesh of his bottom, sucking it in your mouth with small nips before pulling back.

forming spit in your mouth, you held onto his cock, an immediate grunt rupturing from his throat, letting the spit falling down at his tip. brushing your thumb over it, lathering your spit down to his shaft.

“tighter… please…” he mumbled, foreheads now pressing as he watched your hand wrap around his throbbing and slightly veiny shaft, rolling your wrist in circular and jagged movements. tighter you held, hearing the sound of his throaty moans.

“like this?” you breath, quickening your pace. he deserved it.

lifting the bottom of his shirt, he placed the cloth in his mouth, seeing the light spread of hair that tracked up his navel and a hollowing abdomen at every whine he let out. “yes..” he gritted through his teeth.

his precum swaying around from the vigorous speed that continued to grow. he held his breath, brows knitted, body tense at the rhythmic pattern, veins channeling on your forearm with your fingers glazing against the underside of his tip. “look at me.” you whispered, his eyes slowly traveled up your body until they locked with yours.

you spoke of lust in both your gazes, hearing the wetness of his spit coated cock at every pump, hunger radiating in you both like you desperately needed this— shameless and passionate intimacy.

your body yearned to feel him inside and the way he stared at you— the burning sensation it brought you— made it difficult for you. you wanted to feel him stretch your cunt. pushing him back by the press of your palm against your shoulder, he lay. hovering over him, wrapping your leg over his waist before angling yourself over him.

slowly you slid down on him, never feeling something as big as his. even just from the tip, you felt yourself gasp heavily as you kept lowering yourself down onto him. “fuck you’re so… big…”

james continued his whines, eyes closing tight, his body shuttered… you were so warm, your fleshy walls holding him so comfortably. bodies slowly enveloping on another as he tried to talk to your body with his hands— sliding against your thighs, up your waist and momentarily on your breasts.

“you….” he breathed, it hitching as he mindlessly held his breath, with you pushing more of him into you— textured and wet, with a heartbeat that cradled the shaft of his cock. “your pussy is sucking me in…” he groaned, his ass tensing.

all of you. the sight of it all, each movement you made. fuck, didn’t you drive him insane. at this moment, he knew he couldn’t hold back any longer.

your pussy gripped his cock, deeper it went, as if your grip was unable to let him go. each moan you let out, your pussy clammed and mimicked each word as it pulsated against him.

he couldn’t stay still, whimpering as you started to lightly bounce against him— hands planted on his chest with a slight roll of your hips. you couldn’t believe how good he felt inside of you, how full he made you. with you already cumming, it was hard to keep yourself steady, feeling yourself break down each time you lowered yourself.

pressing his hand on your back, he turned you both, now with you on your back laid against the floor, “let me pleasure you… please.” he begged, both hands placed on the sides of your head.

“fuck me like the good boy you are…”

and with that, it was as if a switch had been turned on in his brain. using one hand to grasp your thigh, “like this?” he breathed, his words as slow as his thrusts, his drowsy-like eyes running up against your face. gritting his teeth, sucking on the cool yet hot air, eyebrows knitting together. he placed his forehead against yours, your hand now sliding up to his neck— the pads of your fingers and thumb pressing down the sides of it, slowly tightening your grip. with struggling breaths, his hips continuing his rhythmic thrust yet trying to find the spot, the spot that will lead you into ecstasy.

the hand that held your thigh pressed it down further, his knees fixing itself at a better position, now his groin aiming downwards. his thrust now falling into slow, hungry pounds, his balls hitting just above your asshole. “does it feel good here…?” leaning down as he pressed wet kisses at the edge of your lips.

all you could give were responding moans, your body overstimulated by every movement he made.

each inward thrust, you could hear skin slapping against one another, your breasts mashing into each other. lips trailing down to your cheek, then to your ear, his tongue running at the side of your ear then switching to the next, groaning a series of ‘fucks’ and your name as the thrust started to increase in intensity. they were once slow, now holding more power, grunting at each inward hit. “god. your… pussy… feels… so…. soo fucking… so goood…” each word ending in a hitch.

his voice now holding a deeper, grosser tone, more animalistic as he grew pussy drunk at how you wrapped around him.

he enveloped your lips, inhaling and capturing your tongue in his mouth, sucking on its pink muscle, bobbing his head and swallowing any ounce of spit that rolled down to the back of his throat. your tongue slipped from his mouth, pressing a long kiss against his lips once more.

your mind transversed across what could possible be the gates of fucking heaven at this point. each twist and turn of his hips hitting spots your fingers could possible never do, your damp walls clamping around his girthy cock—greedily needing to paint your insides with his cum, over and over again if he could.

"it feels good, it's so good...." you trailed off, lips pressing together as you muffled a few moans of satisfaction that sounded nearly like his name—the tip of his relentless cock hitting sweet, sweet spots with each charging pound. your hands removing themselves, now dragging and scratching into his back, tugging the flesh leaving continuous marks onto his skin— causing him to wince in blissful pain.

the reverberating sounds of your name rolling off his tongue along with the desperate whines and groans of pleasure only elevated your lust "you're obsessed with my pussy," you whined, head thrown back at the intense plunges against your favored spot.

your promiscuous ways dragging him down in the mud, wanting to rut and fuck you like an untrained animal. that alluring voice of yours, cracking into a moan after you tried so desperately to tease him.

your concaving walls collapsing at his cock, walls with a flowery texture that ran against the pulsating veins of his dick. your wails rushing to his dick alongside your suction— with each inhale making its grasp tighter than before. your folds clasping at the sides of his shaft at every pull.

he place a thumb so kindly pressed at your slippery clit. circling it slow, with rougher presses at each thrust, it’s hood pushing back, feeling your wet, exposed bud nudge at the skin of his thumb. each run around, he could hear it, how your slick found it’s way all the way to your clit, making it harder for his thumb to be held in place.

his body loosened, with his hips now controlled, it’s speed rising with a longer pull and harder pound, body muggy with a thin layer of sweat, with your face buried in the inner corner of his neck.

“i don’t ever want to stop fucking you… your pussy is too good.” his voice ridged and strained.

rhythmical slaps of wet skin colliding as his balls felt a sharp sensation each time it bounced against the sweetness of your hole. your pussy’s heartbeat causing his eyes to roll, holding his breath and letting it out shakily.

“fuck me just like that james… just like that.” your eyes widening with your legs wrapping around his waist. “im close!”

“i don’t want to stop fucking you… i wish i could fuck you nonstop… i want to keep going…” his chest madly rattling against his ribcage.

shivers cascading through your arms as they gripped his hair firmly once again. your beings were joined in such an impassioned, fervid act of lustful ignited bursting flames out of your bodies. “can i..." he breathed out, voice hoarse, “can i breed you… please… please..”

the walls echoed sounds of your repeated pleasure lamentations followed by his needy words and melting into the increasing melody of skin against skin, lead you over the hill, "cum inside! do it baby…" you uttered directly into his eyes, the familiar knot forming at the pit of your abdomen, convusling cunt tightening around his sliding shaft with each thrust.

he couldn’t stop himself, feeling you cum on his cock made him bury himself further inside, hot spurts of his own cum filling you with rolling eyes and harsh gasps. glazed spit lips, bodies trembling from their high, and strained moans.

his arms snake around your body, cum oozing down his balls and thigh. “fuck….” his body not even finished with his high, slow thrust to chase after the leftover high you both breathed out.

“god james… who wouldn’t known you fucked so well…”

laid out on the floor, you both tried to catch your breaths. the contrast between every moment of you knowing one another to now, fucking each other like your life depended on it, you couldn’t help but laugh.

how significant is it to have a simple man— attractive at that— with his usual order of black coffee in your house, fucking you without a care in the world.

you knew… this wouldn’t be the last time.

[seoktized]

coulomb’s law (s.jy + s.mt)

working on a science project with two jocks wasn’t the worst thing ever.. even if you all got locked in a room together.

word count: 3.1k (unedited 😀)

genre: college au, smut

warnings: fingering, creampie, tit play, oral (m. receiving), unprotected sex. literally just smut idk what to tell u 😭

a/n: LOWKKKey self indulgent bc AWRF i love matthew and jake. finally back writing yayy!!! first long fic too omgomg pls tell me if u like, it means a lot!

you always had a like for all things science, so when you heard you’d be completing a science project you were ecstatic.

‘this would be easy’ you told yourself.

you believed that until you were paired with seok matthew and jake sim who happened to be your former crushes and star football players for your college.

the two of them knew they were stars. matthew and jake didn’t care about doing school work, often paying another student with daddy’s money.

the two were untouchable. because who would bench their best players? especially when they’re so close to making it to the championship?

when your professor announced your name along with the two boys’ you quickly realized easy was an understatement.

after everyone was given their partners, your professor dismissed class in order for everyone to get started on the project.

you stood up and collected your things, mentally preparing yourself to hear either boy to scoff and tell you do the project yourself.

you made your way down the aisle to the area matthew and jake were sitting in, the two of them were engaged in a conversation

‘they probably didn’t hear what the professor even said’ you thought.

your suspicions were confirmed when jake looked up at you with a puzzled look on his face. the three of you rarely crossed paths, so he had the right to be confused.

matthew saw jake’s expression and followed his eyes. the two boys staring at you made chills run down your arms, you could sense the judgment in their eyes.

“are you just going to stand there or…” matthew asked, an awkward expression was present across his face.

“right, um, we were assigned as a group for the science project.” you had a tight grip on your books, the way jakes eyes scanned your figure made you feel small.

“science project?” matthew looked over to jake who shrug his shoulders, “what science project?”

you rolled your eyes, “the professor was literally talking about it the whole time.”

jake chuckled, “all i heard was blah blah blah.” matthew laughed at jakes words.

“well, it’s due in two weeks so i’d like to get started,” you reached into your pocket to grab your phone.

“give me your numbers so we can arrange time to work on it.” you stuck your phone out in their direction.

matthew’s eyebrows raised and jake had a smirk growing across his face.

“woah, asking for my number already? i don’t even know your name sweetheart.” jake teased.

you visibly cringed at jakes attempt at flirting, it was no surprise jake would try and fuck anything on legs. you swore to yourself you’d never give in his advances, or so you thought.

matthew grabbed your phone and typed in his name and number before handing it to jake to let him do the same. jake laughed a little as he was typing in his information. he handed the phone back and you saw a heart emoji next to his name.

you glanced up at him and he shot you a wink. quickly looking back down to your phone, you created a groupchat for the three of you. sending a ‘hi’ to make sure they were in the chat.

“anyways, i’ve gotta get going. i’ll text you guys later to work out the details.” you gave an awkward smile to which matthew responded with a wave.

“bye, doll.” jake grinned. after you turned you heard a hand collide with someone’s chest. you assumed that matthew smacked jake because of how desperate he seemed.

texting them was even harder. the boys barely replied. when one of them did respond, it was a short ‘can’t we have practice’

looking down at your phone, you read matthew’s text which was another excuse as to why they couldn’t join you.

sighing, you set your phone down and decided to start on the project on your own. you knew from the beginning it would be like this. you felt a bit silly for almost believing they’d try to work with you.

you were honestly glad they weren’t able to show up. the whole process would go by much faster without the two of them goofing off the whole time.

you pulled out your laptop and placed it on the table. glancing out the door of the small room you were in, you noticed the usually crowded library was empty. just you and the nice librarian who was busy tidying up her desk area.

opening your laptop you began to type away, looking at different sources to complete the research portion of the assignment. you were pulled away from your research by a buzz from your phone. flipping it over you saw a text from matthew.

matt: practice was canceled and we don’t have anything else to do

we’re coming to work on the project

y/n: okay. i’m in room 28

‘*they really wanna work on this project?*’ you thought. you shrugged your shoulders and continued to work as much as you could before they arrived.

minutes go by and you hear jake being obnoxiously loud. the librarian told him to be quiet and he said a small “sorry, sorry.”

matthew entered first, jake following behind like a lost puppy. jake shut the door behind him and the two walked over to you. jake slammed his backpack on the table a little too hard making you jump.

“shit- sorry,” he quickly apologized.

“so what do you want us to do?” matthew asked, pulling out a chair so he could sit down.

“well, i’ve started on the research part,” you turned your laptop around to the boys, showing them the progress you’ve made so far.

“so you guys could go through and start writing out the experiment we have to do. i’ll send it to you.”

the two nodded and brought out their own laptops. you quickly typed away on your computer, sending them the doc you were working on.

matthew was actually focused on working. jake on the other hand kept sighing as his short attention span was creating a problem for him.

“why the hell do you keep sighing?” matthew snipped, starting to get frustrated.

“i cant focus.” jake whined, his hands combing through his hair in frustration.

matthew rolled his eyes, “dude it’s only been 30 minutes.”

“actually, it’s been an hour. an hour of doing nothing!” jake exclaimed.

matthew shook his head in annoyance at jake. you felt your body start to ache from being slouched over for so long.

you stood up to stretch, “should we get snacks? there’s a vending machine around the corner.” you closed your laptop.

the two boys agreed and stood up to leave the room.

jake reached the door first and twisted the handle. it didn’t budge. he started to twist it more in panic until matthew pushed him out of the way to try himself.

the door was locked from the outside.

your eyes widened, realizing you were locked in a room with jake and matthew.

you pushed the two out of the way trying the handle as if you were stronger than the two of them. unlucky for you, the door did not open.

jake groaned and rubbed his face with his hands.

“ms. kim! can you come open the door?” you yelled out, hoping the librarian heard you.

seconds passed there was no answer. you let your forehead fall against the door, sighing in defeat.

“let me try again,” jake stepped up to the door, attempting to open it again. it didn’t work.

“i guess we’re stuck in here.” matthew shrugged.

you didn’t reply, instead you made your way back to where you were sitting. plopping down in the chair, you opened your laptop back up.

the two boys exchanged glances for a second. jake smirked and nodded at matthew. they returned to their seats as well.

“let’s play a game.” jake said.

his facial expression told you he was up to no good. but you didn’t want to bore yourself to death with work so, you agreed closing your computer once again.

“what game?” you asked.

“truth or dare” matthew smirked.

you pressed your lips into a line, nodding at matthew.

it could be fun. what could go wrong?

“alright jake first, truth or dare.” matthew asked.

“mm.. truth.” jake replied.

“you’re no fun. but hmm.. what’s your.. biggest turn on?” a wicked grin was on matthew’s face.

your eyes widened at matthew’s words. you quickly realized this wasn’t gonna be a fun game. jake chuckled at your expression before pretending to think.

“i don’t know.. probably… begging? something about a girl begging for my dick seems so sexy,” his words were laced with cockiness. matthew nodded and turned to you.

matthew’s gaze made chills run down your spine.

“truth or dare?” jake sat up, waiting to hear your answer.

“um, truth.” you quickly said. matthew shook his head.

“have you ever thought about fucking one of us?” matthew raised his eyebrows, both boys leaned in waiting for your answer. matthew was bold.

“n-no.” you lied. the two of them could see right through it though, nodding and continuing on with the game.

“matt! truth or dare?” jake exclaimed.

“dare.”

“ooh!” jake rubbed his hands together, you on the other hand was scared for what jake was going to say.

“i dare you to… makeout with her for 30 seconds.”

your wide eyes shifted from matthew over to jake, staring at him in bewilderment.

matthew turned to you, “is that okay?” you looked back over to him and paused for a second before slowly nodding.

“i need to hear you say it, love.” he purred.

“yes.. it’s okay” you squeaked.

matthew moved closer to you, turning his head to jake, “count for us.”

“alright, go.” matthew placed his hand on your cheek, pressing his lips to yours. quickly melting into the kiss, you let matthew slip his tongue into your mouth.

your own hands that were once in your lap had found their way to his hair. matthew was a good kisser causing you to almost go drunk on his lips.

“times up!” jake interrupted.

matthew pulled away and you chased his lips, wanting more.

“woah, doll, we gotta continue our game yeah?” he chuckled at your eagerness.

pouting, you leaned back into your chair.

“mkay jake, truth or dare?” matthew asked.

“mm i’ll go with dare now.”

“i dare you to play with y/n’s tits.” matthew’s eyes were glued to your chest watching as it moved up and down from your breathing.

jake shot up and moved around the table to where you were. feeling a little bold, you took off your own jacket and shirt. your white lacy bra on display for the two of them to see.

jakes eyes looked as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. to your right, you heard matthew chuckle.

jakes hands made their way to the back of your bra, swiftly unclipping it. he slid your bra off slowly, his eyes never leaving your chest.

moving in closer, he stuck his tongue out, giving kitten licks to your hardened nipples.

even though it was something small, the pleasure he was giving you was overwhelming. you were completely turned on from making out with matthew and this was the cherry on top.

you remember how you told yourself you wouldn’t let jake have you this vulnerable, but all those thoughts subsided the moment he latched onto your mound.

you bit your lip in an attempt to suppress the whimpers that threaten to slip from your mouth.

jake was basically making out with your chest at this point, one of his hands was fondling with the one he didn’t have in his mouth.

you let your head tilt back before you heard matthew’s voice ring through your ears

“time’s up!”

you lifted your head up, looking at matthew who was visibly hard and who obviously didn’t want the two of you to stop.

jake detached himself from your tit with a loud pop before sitting back in his own chair. his eyes were still glued to your chest.

“did you enjoy yourself?” matthew asked.

you nodded—not being able to speak— the two boys and their previous actions was the only thing on your mind.

“alright princess, truth or dare?” jake’s voice was a bit deeper signaling that he must be as turned on as you are right now.

“dare.” you breathed out.

the two boys exchanged a glance before smiling at you. they both stood from their chairs, moving closer to you. and though you were almost their height, them standing above you like this made you feel small.

“we dare you to let us fuck you.” matthew’s hand went to your jaw once again, stroking it softly.

jake bent down to let his hand trail up your thigh, rubbing dangerously close to your heat. they were waiting for you to give them the green light, which you did with a small “go ahead,”

jake’s hand had now traveled to the waistband of your pants, tugging on them to signal that he wanted to take them off. you lifted your hips up in order for him to slip them off of you.

matthew, on the other hand, was placing kisses all over your exposed chest, tasting what his friend previously did.

jake’s hand pressed against your clothed cunt, watching as the wetness seeped through your panties.

“matt look,” he chuckled, matthew detached from your chest to look down.

“fuck, doll, you’re so wet for us. such a good girl,” matthew praised, you let out a whine at his words.

the want, the need for them was getting stronger. who would thought that a science project would’ve led to you getting this wet for two star football players.

you pushed your hips against jake’s hand, trying to get some friction where you needed him the most.

“you want us to fuck you, baby?” jake asked, letting his hand pull away from your core. he wanted you to beg for them, for him.

“mhm, please. please fuck me.” you whimpered.

“okay love, we will.” matthew replied before jake could.

the two of them raised from their positions for a second in order to rid themselves of their clothes. they were hard. and big. you were in for it.

“i want her mouth. her pretty swollen lips would look so good around my dick.” matthew told jake. he nodded in response to matthew.

“hop on the table for us, doll.” jake said. you quickly moved to the table, laying down for them.

matthew came over to one side and leaned down to place a kiss on your lips. when he pulled back he let his thumb rub over your bottom lip. his other hand was wrapped around his aching cock, stroking it slowly.

“alright baby. i’m gonna fuck your mouth, okay?” matthew asked.

you nodded, sticking your tongue out for him. he grinned in response before placing his dick on your tongue. you let your lips close over his girth and he began to thrust in and out slowly.

jake was now on the side adjacent to matthew. he pulled off your panties, discarding it with the rest of your clothes.

his thumb came in contact with your clit, making you moan around matthew’s cock. matthew winced at the feeling, whispering that your mouth felt so good.

two fingers were now circling your hole. jake pushed his fingers into your warm cunt, thrusting in and out before adding another finger. he continued his ministrations before deeming you prepped enough for his cock.

“gonna fuck you now.” he said before he slowly pushed in.

you all groaned in unison, pleasure on high. matthew was now thrusting at a faster pace, getting lost in the heat of your mouth.

jake was letting you adjust to his size before bottoming out. he stayed there for a second to relish in the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing around him so deliciously.

“fuckk you’re so tight-” jake winced. you tapped your foot on his thigh, signaling that he could move.

he started a quick but deep pace, watching as your tits bouced with every movement. his thrusting cause you to move against matthew’s cock, every thrust hitting the back of your throat.

matthew admired how you were gagging and sputtering on his cock. his hand brushed against your jaw, gripping it a little to thrust faster. you noticed he was starting to near his high as his breaths and groans started to increase.

he slipped himself out of your mouth, “fuck- open up.” he said as he started to stroke his length.

you obeyed and opened your mouth letting your tongue slip out too. he came on your face tongue with a loud groan.

“so so good for me, fuck.” he said as he came down from his peak.

jake’s thrusts were now relentless in an attempt to get both of you to cum. matthew intensely watched the area where you and jake were connected. he felt himself getting hard again at the sight.

your loud moans weren’t supressed anymore which boosted jake’s ego.

“fuck fuck fuck i’m close jake please!” you begged.

“me too, doll, fuck! can i cum inside?” he was roughly gripping your waist, rough enough to leave bruises.

“yeah, i’m on the pill!” you whined at the thought of him filling you up.

matthew was stroking his cock at the scene before him, his eyes flicking between your face and your cunt.

“god, i’m gonna fill this pretty pussy up,” jake moaned. you nodded at his words.

one more thrust was all it took for you to some undone, your back arching off the table, moaning loudly. jake came soon after with a “shit!” leaving his mouth from the way you were clenching around him. his hips were flush against yours, letting your cunt milk him dry.

he pulled out slowly and you whined from the loss of contact. matthew had came in his hand beside you, all three coming down from your highs.

the room was full of panting, everyone attempting to catch their breath.

“hello? is anyone in there?” you heard from outside the door.

all three of your heads shot up towards the door.

“yeah! we’re still studying. give us a second!” matthew shouted.

you stood to put on your clothes, struggling a bit due to your wobbly legs.

the two boys did the same before packing up their things. matthew saw how you were having trouble so he placed his things down to help you out. jake helped by packing your things into your bag.

you all made your way to the door, matthew’s hand was on the small of your back to stable your walking. jake opened the door, smiling at the librarian before you all brushed past her to leave.

“maybe we should work on projects together more often,” jake smiled. matthew made a noise of agreement and you nodded.

and that you did, always making A after A on every project with your new group.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi!! How do you think potential meet cutes with Jason would go? Do you think he’d be instantly smitten? He strikes me as the type to get a crush on you since the first meeting but maybe I’m just delusional 🥰

My honest opinion but I don’t think Jason likes smut books. He doesn’t mind a little bit of smut but would much prefer if it was nonexistent or didn’t take up a ridiculous amount of pages/chapters in the book in general.

I’m also a delusional twat anon who believes Jason would feel something upon first meetings, but firstly I have to heavily disclose that most of your run ins with one another would be in a book store/cafe, at least more so then anywhere else. (Book reader Jason supremacy!)

So to say that your interest was peaked upon first spotted a six foot something, beast of a man standing in front of the romance section, holding two different books -which were both written by the Jane Austen- in each hand was an understatement.

Normally you wouldn’t expect a man like Jason in the romance section of a small, quite but quaint bookstore/cafe, withholding an internal conflict over some books in his head as though his life depended on it. However the fact still stands that you deeply appreciate a man with good taste in his personal readings, and wasn’t afraid to indulge in the romance genre.

It probably also didn’t help that he was a conventionally attractive man with short dark hair with a tuft of white embedded in his fringe and wearing a simple read hoodie and jeans, a simple attire that anyone could wear, but on him he made it seem as though it were a main staple of his wardrobe.

Jason, knowing when he’s being watched, as quick to look over his shoulder but what he wasn’t expecting was to see someone as cute and stunning as you standing there. He’s a little tongue tied but that was mainly from surprise, and for all of Jason’s hard attempts of trying to act natural, it only made for a spectacle that you couldn’t help but view as endearing and kinda cute.

‘You alright there?’ You’d ask with a smile.

‘Yeah. I’m good, fine even.’ Jason replied, internally cursing himself for being caught off guard because he was too involved in debating which book to take home to read.

‘So…You like Jane Austen?’ You asked, trying to make room for a conversation to occur between the two of you.

‘Wha-‘ Jason looks down at the books in either of his hands and chuckles. ‘Yeah, she’s one of my favourite alongside the likes of Mary Shelley and Louisa May Alcott.’ He answers and he could tell that he had gotten your approval with the little hum of acknowledgment.

‘Do you come here often?’ You then said before adding with an awkward laugh of your own, ‘I mean I come here quite frequently as it’s the only bookstore in town that has proper books that aren’t smut books, and i have never seen you before until well…today.’ Jason smiles, finding himself growing to like you with every passing moment as he felt himself grow relaxed within your presence, especially now that he had long deducted that you weren’t a real threat.

‘I’m with you on that pretence, it’s seems that nowadays all the bookshelves in most stores are prominently smut books of lacklustre quality and story structure.’ Jason agreed, noting being a fan of those types of books himself, Jason had found it becoming increasingly difficult to find decent books that weren’t smut, badly written girl boss self inserts, or just poorly written in general. So when he stumbled across this little book store on his way home and took a chance by entering the store, only to find himself spending way longer than he had initially thought.

And that was just in the romance section alone. That’s how Jason knew this bookstore was unlike all the rest in Gotham.

‘But as to answer your question, I come here on the off chance when I’m looking for a new book to read, seeing as I have read and re-read the books in my personal possession multiple times over.’ Jason admitted and feeling a little bashful but reading had proven to be a form of escapism for him- especially after everything he has been through recently- he felt as though this escape from reality was severely overdue.

‘You’ve got your own collection of books? Am I allowed to assume that they’re mainly Jane Austen’s body of work or?’ You trailed off, feeling yourself growing more confident with talking to Jason as though it was as easy as breathing. Finally you had someone to indulge in this sort of conversation with without it feeling forced and fall to the wayside, leaving you both to soak in the awkward and stifling aftermath.

Jason smiled genuinely as he bowed his head and raised his hands. ‘You got me down to a science…’ he trailed off once realising that he didn’t know your name and cursed himself for his lack of even the basic of etiquette.

‘Y/n.’ You told him with a smile.

‘Y/n.’ He tested out your name, letting it linger for a little bit and quickly came to the conclusion that he liked it. He liked it a lot. And you liked it also, especially when he was the one saying it the way he did just now.

‘Well it’s nice to meet you y/n. My names Jason.’ Jason then said and he knew that he’d come to like the way you said his name as though it were a mythical word;

‘Jason.’ You uttered, saying every word with care and respect that it left a weird feeling within Jason’s chest that only seems to grow and spread throughout his body the more you talked.

You two would talk for literal hours about your favourite book genres, characters and so on to the point that the owner of the bookstore would have to remove you both from the premises himself. He’d then proceed to go on about how you both were just taking the piss at this point and muttering about having to stay an while longer to properly close up shop, count the cash float, and so on before then making the journey home.

He honestly didn’t care about the books in Jason’s hand, just lets him have them for free on the pretence that both he and you get the fuck out before shutting and locking the door behind you both.

‘Well…’ Jason trailed off, tucking the books under his arm. ‘Will I see you again? Preferably here?’ He asks and you smiled sheepishly.

‘Depends, will you?’ You countered and Jason could feel the smile on his lips grow at it’s own accord. ‘Yeah, I’m definitely coming back if I get free books for every time I stay until closing hours.’ He jokes and you lightly smack his bicep, keeping your hand there for an unreasonably long time but it’s not like either you or Jason cared in that moment.

‘Then I guess I’m obligated to come back here to help you piss off the bookstore owner.’ You replied with a smile of your own as you both kept looking into the other’s eyes. You both knew something had blossomed here today at this run down bookstore, and you both hoped that it could continue like that for a long while, but neither of you were willing to admit your embarrassingly rapidly growing attraction to one another. That could wait for another time.

‘Great.’ Jason said.

‘Great.’ You echoed. ‘See you soon I guess.’

‘Soon can’t come fast enough.’ Jason replied ask you both went your separate ways with eager anticipation of your next interaction.

[goldsainz]

ECHOES OF LOVE — one shot.

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

2K CELEBRATION. MASTERLIST.

taglist: @lorarri @lpab @whatthefuckerr @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @schumacheer @saintslewis

summary: you can only watch as the man you love becomes a shell of who he once was.

request: “i would like to have ✒️— with prompt “i don’t even recognize you anymore.” with Charles!”

warnings: angst, ferrari being enemy #1, poorly proof-read, charles’s an asshole.

NOTE: this is all over the place but i kinda like the mess. every time i write for charles i read it over and over bc i don’t know if i am doing him justice. i hope you all enjoy this and find it entertaining, at least.

[ word count: 1,2k ]

Forza Ferrari sempre. 

You didn’t know when, but somewhere along the way you grew to hate the phrase. You suppose it was when Charles started to lose himself in his devotion to the team or when he no longer had time to even look at you some days. 

It didn’t take a genius to know that Ferrari was one of the main priorities Charles had in his life, what you didn’t know or even have in mind, is that it went above you. You who had stuck by him through thick and thin, who heard him cry out of frustration when the team made a decision not even then could comprehend; you who loved him for Charles and not il Predestinato. 

Sometimes you miss the past. It wasn’t always that you indulged in nostalgia, but when you did, it made you resent what your life has become. How could you not? Everywhere you went there was a reminder of all the things you had lost, all the little things you slowly left behind and now missed. 

You remember a time where talking about Ferrari was fun. When all was hush-hush and Charles had just signed his contract with the Scuderia, rambling on and on about all the things that could happen if he was on the team; from fulfilling his family’s dream to becoming a World Champion. Ferrari signified hope to Charles, so it was the same to you.

Now, Ferrari was the breaking point in your relationship. It wasn’t about ultimatums, you were almost certain that if it were you would have to pack your bags and start fresh somewhere else. No, this was about putting effort into a relationship, one that over time seemed to be one-sided.

Being home — if it could still be called that — was awkward and not like it once was. You watched Charles fumble around the kitchen as he pretended to cook, something he wasn’t fond of or good at. There were so many things you wanted to say, so many thoughts to be shared, and you would’ve kept them under lock and key if it weren’t for the fact that you were supposed to be spending time together.

It was unbearable to live with someone who you once knew so well and now was someone else entirely. The same could probably be said for you, but you knew that it didn’t matter how you changed, you love for Charles didn’t.

“I was thinking on going to Maranello on Friday.” Your boyfriend said, breaking the silence that loomed over you.

“What?”

“Yeah, get some stuff done. Just for the weekend, though.” You waited for Charles to turn around, to face the words he was saying. But once more, you are left behind in his plans: in his life.

“You’re not being serious, right?”

“Of course I am, Y/N.”

That was when he turned around. If there was something you rarely did was complain to him about his work trips, because most of the time you went him. But you knew that he knew that what he was telling you was outrageous.

“We have this one week to ourselves, Charles. You promised to leave work related stuff behind for one week.”

“I know that, but things came up.”

“Things came up? Come on, Charles.” You heard his exasperated sigh, now frustrated you weren’t bending to his wishes.

“Look, I’m sorry that me working to maintain the life we live is such an inconvenience for you.”

“I never complain about anything!” You exclaim, shaking your head at the absurdity of his words, “I’m your biggest supporter, Charles. I just wanted one week to enjoy ourselves.”

You hear pans clattering as he abandons his attempt at cooking, his attention now fully on you.

“This whole week is a distraction, and I can’t have distractions right now, Y/N.” There is a silence that builds the moment he says that, as you look at him you wonder when it was that all the time you spent together ended up in this.

“Oh, so I’m a distraction now?” You finally speak up, watching as the situation fully clicks for Charles. You watch him move from behind the kitchen counter, approaching you like a wounded animal.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” You almost laugh at his words, you want to tear your hair out from your scalp from frustration.

“It’s not?” You ask, watching as he falters at the brashness of your words, “Because from what I see, Ferrari will always come first.”

He doesn’t say anything. Nothing to deny the claims you are making, and that is when you truly know. That despite the way you want to delude yourself that the current Charles is the same Charles you met all those years ago and fell in love with, you know that the man who stands before you is not him.

“You can’t even deny it! You are so far gone on this quest to make Ferrari the team you want them to be, that you’ve lost sight of everything else around you. Including me.”

You wait for him to say something, but nothing comes out of his mouth, nothing at all.

“Say something, Charles!”

“What do you want me to say? That me driving for Ferrari is the worst thing ever? Because I can’t.”

Despite the urge to cry you manage to keep your composure. You hope that the gloss in your eyes isn’t noticiable, that he doesn’t see how tired of your situation you are.

“If I don’t work with Ferrari, what do I have left?”

That is when a tear slips. That exact moment were he utters those dreaded words, is when you falter before him. His dismissal of your relationship breaks your heart, it breaks your heart that he believes Ferrari is all he is worth. As if he isn’t one of the best drivers on the Grid currently, as if there aren’t various teams interested in him if he wanted them.

“I don’t even recognise you anymore.” You whisper to him, watching as his posture tightens and the look in his eyes turns cold.

It is then when you truly know that there is no going back to who you once were. That your relationship, however much of it was left, is now over.

He takes a deep breath, dragging his hand down his face. His brows furrowed, considering what to do of the predicament his in.

“If you dislike who I am so much, leave.” Charles says with no remorse in his voice, no care for the fact that you have limited places to go to in Monaco. “Nobody is stopping, if this situation is so bad for you, leave.”

You watch him for a second, this time you don’t look for regret, you look for love. If you had more time in your hands you could probably dig some up, but you shouldn’t grasp at straws to find love. And so you do what he wants. Once more. But this time will be the last time.

With little fuss, little care, you grabbed your necessities that were laying around and left. Opening the door to leave his flat feels like relief.

It isn’t until you are standing in the street that you realise that all those years with Charles would now remain in the past. Forever frozen on what could’ve been if life were fair.

[bloodyinkandquill]

Ban Hammer x Reader being comforted for their break up

sorry for how late i am rn, these ones just haven’t struck me with inspiration, tbf it’s a monday and im sitting on my bed eating an entire sleeve of saltines so… also apologies for not doing rh egobworder one yet i just have literally no ideas, especially because i need to figure out like his character, as far as i knew he was just a skin so😭 not like follower sword or heretic katana that i know have different personality’s and junk, oh and to get me more motivated to do all these requests since i have like 6 rn im probably going to write something self indulgent as a treat for myself lmao

- When Ban Hammer opened his door, he expected to see a lot of things, his close friend a sobbing mess was not one of them, he quickly ushered you in unsure of what to do, he just sorta made small movements before gesturing to the couch in invitation

- You sat down trying to form words but you couldn’t quite string them together and you just went back to crying aggressively into your hands, he sat down next to you and awkwardly pat your back, he was never the best with emotions so he was trying his best to be comforting to you

- After a couple minutes and him grabbing you a glass of water, with a crazy straw, that made you giggle through your tears, you had finally composed yourself enough to form proper sentences, you told him that your partner had suddenly broken up with you, you had absolutely no clue why, you thought you two were so happy, why did they do this? He sneered and said that they’re clearly an idiot, breaking up with you for no reason

- He did his best to comfort you as you sobbed into in shirt, thankful he wasn’t wearing his armor, as he gave you awkward pats on the back and the like, he said things you mostly didn’t hear through your cries and tears, though you did pick up on him saying that they were blind, how could anyone see you and not fall for you, they lost an amazing beautiful demon, you sniffled looking up at him, meeting his four eyes, since he only wore his blindfold in phights you saw them commonly, almost glowing with their red hue

- He realized a bit more what he said and you could see the faintest flush to his cheeks, before he said at least that’s what he thought, you looked at his face, vision still a bit blurry from your tears, and you realized just how attractive he was, you had never looked at your friend in that light, or maybe you always had but never realized it, and before you could think twice you reached up, propping yourself up on your knees grappling his face and kissing him

- All four of Ban Hammer���s eyes widened in shock but after a minute he wrapped his arms around your back before reciprocating the kiss, you had been so occupied with the relationship you were in you never realized the relationship you wanted, your friend who’d been with you for years, you kissed him for what felt like a year before pulling away to catch your breath, meeting his eyes which were a little dazed, you just stared at each other for a moment and went right back to kissing

sorry it’s so short and not that good i was working on it in small parts throughout different times of the day and like i said none of these have been super inspiring to me, my sincerest apologies for that i’ll get them done but might take some time, and my requests are closed till i get through these because there’s so many of them, alright let’s try and get another one done before i go to sleep

[xiaoriae]

"...AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES!"

— PAIRINGS ; childe, diluc, xiao & zhongli x gn!reader (separate)

— NOTES ; a repost from my old blog!

CHILDE was a friendly roommate, that was the first and significant trait you’d noticed since day one he walked into the small shared apartment.

he wasn’t scared to communicate directly with you, exchanging introductions felt less awkward and more livelier with his playful tone and that signature smile of his.

you didn’t think childe was richer than ordinary people like you to be honest. he probably was a broke student, just like you. after all, he did split the rent with you and so you assumed that he underwent the same financial problems people around your age did.

but when he spoiled you on your first birthday you celebrated together with him, only the two of you in the small, cozy, living room, you almost choked out the soda in your hand when you saw the necklace you drooled over the other day you went shopping, or rather, window shopping with him along the city, was in front of you.

“how much is this?!” your eyes bulging out, partially because of the shock and because you knew how expensive it was.

of course you were staring at it for too long on that fateful evening both of you strolling around the city. the necklace caught your attention the moment you saw it was shining under the sun and was displayed right there in front of you, behind the big glass.

the only thing that was holding you back from barging into the jewelry shop was because of that insane price tag.

childe instead shrugged your question off with his laugh, he cautiously took out the necklace from its purple box. “i caught you staring at it, and your eyes shone so bright, they didn’t lie when i asked you if you wanted this necklace or not, unlike your words,” he recalled the moment you quickly shoved him aside from peeking at what you were looking at and pretended that you didn’t want the item.

“as i said before, it wasn’t necessary—

childe’s hands suddenly appeared in front of you, since when did he make his way to stand behind you? you didn’t notice that.

"what—

the cool feeling in contact with your bare skin made you speechless. childe could be a gentleman when he wanted to, it was a rare occasion, of course, but if he did this to you, you might or might not have a teeny little crush on him and that was definitely a bad sign.

the moment he secured the piece of jewelry around your neck from the back, childe quickly spun you around to face him standing as you cooled down your racing heart, and the beats picking up again when you felt him patting your head.

"happy birthday to you, my first, precious and lovely roommate. now you would at least bring a piece of me with you.”

DILUC was a man who would rather keep all things to himself than talking the out with you.

that was how things had always been from the first three months both of you had started living under the same roof.

he was introverted, and you were perfectly fine with it.

he was minding his own business, and you did the same too. nothing clashed, no fights, and although you somehow met with a dead end trying to bonding more with your roommate, it always ended up with the thoughts that he might be uncomfortable if you indulged yourself to have a proper conversation with him.

he always came back home late way passed the twelve o'clock and you always wondered, what did he do for a living?

yes, you were so delusional that sometimes you thought he was doing illegal things at nights. he sometimes did intimidate you by his looks so you wouldn’t stray off that far, right?

well, the answer to your question was finally answered when your friends brought you to crash at a local, famous tavern, and oh, you were shocked, super shocked to see diluc, the mysterious roommate stood behind the counter.

“diluc, why aren’t you looking at me?”

he swore you gave him a headache. just why did you end up drunk and he knew that he would be the one taking you home.

“diluc,” you whined, for some reasons, you were super clingy, acting like a lost puppy and followed him everywhere when he tried to close the tavern.

there was no breathing customers in sight, it was late at night and even your friends left you for him to handle your drunken state.

if he could leave you alone here, he would probably do it, but to say that you peaked his interest that night was an understatement.

you ended up landing your face onto the counter, waiting eagerly for diluc to wipe off the counter and you said what weighing inside your heart the most. “diluc, let’s be friends.”

his actions ultimately stopped when he saw you looking at him with a pair of eyes that almost made his heart skipped a beat. you looked so innocent, he never thought that you were capable of doing that, or was it because you had some possible effects on him?

“hm?”

“i said, let’s be friends,” you sighed dramatically, and suddenly bumped your head hard onto the wooden counter. diluc almost slipped out the small glass in his hand hearing the loud thud. “i want to know you more. it has been like, what, 3 months since we knew each other yet i only knew you work here today,” your hands flying all over the place before your roommate placed both of his hands on your tensed shoulders.

“calm down, y/n,” he sighed, but a small smile started to form on his lips. “we have years to come, you will eventually know me, right?”

you started to freak out with his words, slapping his face away from you and a scoff was heard by the man in front of you. “you’re weird,” you commented.

diluc acted like nothing happened, he had came across a lot of situations with drunken people and he knew you weren’t going to stop until he said what you wanted. “yes, friends.”

“pinky promise?” a wide grin plastered all across your face as soon as you heard diluc words, and diluc almost, almost went red with how his heart tugging at how adorable you were right now. well, you did have an effect on him after all.

and so, your fingers intertwined, a childish promise was made before diluc pulled his hand away from you.

“now, let’s go back home together. i’ll have to take care of you so do not act foolishly along the way.”

XIAO wasn’t fond, or even acknowledged, that there was literally another person living with him. to say that you at least felt distant from him was an understatement, and maybe, just maybe, you did feel hurt sometimes with how cold he was.

your friends, who often crashed inside your small apartment seemed to notice how quiet he was. it was like he wasn’t there in the first place, ignoring you and your friends as he casually went inside his room, shutting the door and never came out again for the rest of the night.

yes, you did feel worried about him. how he was so alone and didn’t socialise with people made you wonder how on earth did he manage to share this place with you, and still treated you like you were some sort of an invisible entity since then.

no matter how many times you tried to talk with him, coincidentally, or consciously, bumping into him while doing the dishes or the laundry, sitting down next to him while he was alone on the couch only for him to say nothing and got up leaving you slightly disheveled at his actions, he just wouldn’t get the hint of you wanting to know him more.

you were bored, and xiao acting like this wasn’t going to cure your boredom anyway.

and of course, as someone who basically lived for human interactions, you knew you had to be bold enough and break that stupid barrier he had in him, that barrier in which blocking you and his solitude life far away from another.

so, one day, a thing that you knew you would never do onto your roommate caught up inside your mind, weighing onto you for the entire day, contemplating all over again whether you should or shouldn’t, because this might turn horribly wrong and you feared that the thin line of relationship you two might have would turn out to be more awkward than it already was.

“what are you up to, hm?” xiao jolted at the sudden voice behind him. he almost burnt the pancake he usually did for breakfast. sometimes he did for you too, knowing that you woke up later than him who was a night owl and an early bird all at once.

he stayed silent, but you knew he was cooking breakfast for you too. seeing the amount of multiplied ingredients in front of you made your heart all fuzzy and warmed. at least, he did care for you, even the slightest.

xiao was taken aback when you suddenly hopped onto the counter beside him. somewhere in the back of his mind, he was questioning why you were acting so happy and bubbly. you were always like this, but seeing you being this cheerful and positive made him looked at you with a calculating gaze.

“what?” your legs swinging back and forth. “stop giving me the judging look, xiao,” you scoffed. sure, xiao was a handsome man, and maybe you just couldn’t stand his good-looking face staring at you for too long.

“why are you here?” his question was straightforward, yet his tone was stern and he continued to act cold. if you could describe him, xiao would give the most 'tsundere' vibe you’d ever found in a man.

“oh, you know, just watching you doing stuff,” answering without any hesitation, you instead asked him. “do you need help in anything? you do this for me too.”

to say that xiao was flabbergasted with you pinpointing his deed was more than enough for you to understand his situation, and xiao faked a cough, proceeding to ignore you at his side and flipping the pancakes.

when he finally done, you jumped off the counter and quickly grabbed the plates nearby, serving them for you, and for him too.

“what is this for, y/n?” oh, so xiao knew your name after all, you nearly thought he’d forgotten about it. you didn’t blame him though, you were just another unimportant person in his life. “let’s eat breakfast together,” you gave him a cheeky grin, and xiao still stood firm although you had placed the pancakes onto the small dining table, yours and his were opposite of each other and you smiled at the thought of your plan since last night doing well so far.

“it’s fine,” xiao hurriedly took his plate, and you truly knew where he was heading, it was either his room, or the living room. so you did what your instinct told you, gently slapping his hand away from the plate and although you’d already sat and he was still shocked with your hand wrapping his arm, xiao quickly looked away, closed his eyes and gave you a big sigh.

“come here,” you pulled him to sit in his place, and to your suprise, he didn’t fight you back.

“where is this going?” he asked, and you felt like smacking his head for being too oblivious with your situation of wanting him to feel like he was your roommate and not just another stranger lounging across the apartment.

you pulled up your spoon. “do you want me to lecture you on how to be close with another person?” flicking his forehead with your spoon instead only for xiao to still stay emotionless and frowned slightly at the pressure on his face. ��just eat, big boy. i swear if you’re acting like a lost child once again, i might go feral.”

“why do i have to listen to you?” he still didn’t want to back down, and still questioning all your actions so you quickly got up from your seat, your hands found his face and xiao’s eyes widening at your warm touch on his face, you were bold, he gave that.

“xiao,” you called his name gently, and he felt how his heart dropped at your sad eyes. “can we be more than just strangers?” you murmured. the way xiao looking up at you intently made your heart almost cried at the sight. he was a good roommate although there was a lack of interactions between the two of you, xiao still cooked your breakfast occasionally.

but you weren’t going to ignore the fact that there was something felt lacking between you and him.

and now, when you felt xiao’s hands taking your hands away from his face, you almost exploded in emotions. was this the direction of your relationship and him left you alone again? why did you feel so emotional, did xiao really had an impact on your life?

maybe he did, he was the one taking care of you in the shadow after all, although he was silent about it.

were you really that desperate for his attention?

and all was shut up when you felt xiao stood up, holding you near him, wrapping his arms around your waist and although the hug was awkward and he was stiff, it was enough to soothe you.

“i’m sorry,” his voice turned softer, silently blaming himself for doing this to you, and you were taken aback with the smell of his cologne, the small space between you and him and the gentle tone he was using.

“i’m sorry, i’ll try improving myself and be a good roommate to you, y/n.”

the first thing to note about ZHONGLI was how cautious and gentle his actions were towards you.

everything he did was so admirable and you couldn’t help to adore this mature side of him, minus when he started to go all in with an insignificant topic like who invented the coffee table or when wine was first made in the industry.

he could be an old man if he went on rambling about all these knowledgeable stuff until your brain went black, malfunctioning, and couldn’t process the information you actually wouldn’t need and use in your daily life that you just had to stop him from continuing his speech.

not to mention, he was quiet popular between the neighbours. even your friends would sometimes wanted to meet him only to drool over him and his look, and sometimes you would cut them off and said no.

the only downside of him was how he seemed to borrow your money all the time. his look could pass off as the rich if you didn’t live with him, but well, guess that was his financial problem.

even how he seemed to ace in economics and unconsciously showing his things—branded things by the way—he yet still borrowed your money just because his memory wasn’t good enough to bring his wallet with him.

he could memorise everything perfectly fine but a precious item, namely his wallet, wasn’t his priority and you were scared to see him broke one day.

thank god zhongli was such an intelligent human. too wise for people around his age and this, of course, you took an advantage of asking him to teach you when you had exams around the corner.

and you were so grateful to have him as your free tutor. he might do bad at his job but hey, at least your grades were improving.

“why did this nation called wind as anemo in the ancient times? it’s so complicated,” you frowned at the long text engraved in the thick book. it just happened that history was the last paper and you just couldn’t comprehend why the term existed when they could’ve just call it as wind.

“it’s in greek,” zhongli seemingly super patient with you and your whiny attitude, he decided to just let you be. “and dendro is also in greek,” he added. “only these two are in greek, there is no need to be theatrical about this.”

“yeah, i know, but with how many papers i’ve gone through this week, my brain has insufficient space of storage for now and this makes me feel worse. i am doomed,” you turned towards him dramatically, maybe you were being exaggerated like he said but the nervousness about failing history was unbearable at this point, for you and your mental health.

“nonsense,” he cut your acting and you quickly glared at him. “the human brain is capable of storing memories up to 2.5 million gigabytes, and there’s never too much for your brain,” he leaned back onto the cushion chair beside yours, bringing his hands to his chest and looked at you as if he was quite disappointed with your little to no efforts.

“one synapse of the brain could—

"okay, mr. zhongli, i’m sorry,” you cut his words before your supposedly history lesson with him turned out into some sort of a neurology class and you definitely didn’t want that.

“let’s be real here,” you spun your chair to see his face directly in front of you, ankles immediately meeting with his and you almost flinched at the contact. zhongli was unfazed so you decided to casually push your chair back a little without making it look awkward due to his intimidating aura when he was serious, and to make more distance between the two of you.

“so, the famous history of teyvat civilization,” you brought your fingers. “there are seven thriving nations,” you continued before seeing that zhongli was staring at you intently. it was too much for your heart to handle. he looked so cool and you were scared of looking stupid.

“ugh,” you groaned, bringing your chair back to the table. “just why do i have to memorise all these facts about this inexistent world in the first place?���

“you have to,” he answered unknowingly. “now, do you want to revise or..?” the calming voice beside you made you felt like an idiot compared to a smart man like him.

“alright,” you sighed, zhongli did have a point. this was for your final semester grade, and you knew you would instantly regret it if your grade ended up low.

“enlighten me then,” he did what he always did when you asked him to tutor you or to supervise you studying.

you took a deep breath. “there were once seven gods people in teyvat worshipped,” you peered your eyes at zhongli and he nodded calmly at your words. “the god of anemo, geo, electro, dendro, hydro, pyro and cryo. all these gods also have their own titles which are freedom, contract, eternal, wisdom, justice, war and love respectively,” you trailed off. even only in a single sentence, your brain jammed trying to process them.

“i couldn’t do this, we aren’t even at the part of each of the nations yet,” you gave up, closing the book before getting up from your seat and ultimately backing away from your study. “time to go out and get some fresh air!” you ignored zhongli’s gaze at you, and when you were about to pass zhongli and get out of your room, zhongli pulled you back from his seat, only for you to land on top of him and a silent gasp came out from your mouth.

what the hell was he even thinking about?

“you are not going anywhere,” his deep voice made your insides tingling. your heart skyrocketed and with how fast he pulled you into him, he placed you back in front of your study like he didn’t do that with you in the first place. your face felt hot, red and you somehow felt nauseous all at once.

where the heck did he learn to do that from?

did he know your poor heart couldn’t take that?

“cat got your tongue?” zhongli’s chuckle resonated through the thick atmosphere within your suffocating room.

“what’s that for?” in that short span of time, you decided to chin up and not showing him how affected you were by his actions. your insides was screaming yet you gave him a look to hide the embarrassment you felt.

“i know you would not even bother to read after this, that was definitely an uninspiring argument you had,” he pulled his chair to become much more closer than you intended him to.

there was no way you were going to focus with him acting like this all of sudden.

“y-yeah, i’ll continue,” you stuttered, and zhongli found it was an adorable sight to see.

“that's my sweetheart.”

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[invertedheaven]

If You Really Love Nothing

chapter 6: unknown

chapter index | next chapter

“Did you know someone named ryomen sukuna?” Yuji let the words tumble out of his mouth the second he saw you, quickly regretting that he didn’t even greet you first

You opened your mouth to speak before closing it again and laughing awkwardly which prompted him to chuckle nervously

“Well if you’re asking then I assume you already know the answer” you responded while stepping aside to let him into the house

“Im sorry, I probably should’ve asked differently”

You shook your head “no its fine, I appreciate that you were at least straightforward about it”

You lead him to the kitchen as you grab your cup of tea “I did know him, I met him in high school…we used to date” you take a sip of the tea as you hear megumi make his way down the stairs

As he walks into the kitchen he greets yuji before noticing the awkwardness in the room you just half smile at him before continuing “we used to date for 3 years, we broke up shortly before he moved”

Megumis eyes widened as he realized what exactly he walked into

“Can I ask why?” Yuji asked a little to fast he realized

You shrugged “I don’t actually know, if I’m being honest… a week after my birthday he just said he was done, I couldn’t do much about that”

Yuji and megumi glanced at each other both with a face of disgust mixed with disbelief. Megumi didn’t really know the full story so this was new to him too in a sense

“What was he like?” Yuji asked his tone laced with curiosity and something akin to melancholy. He’s never felt like he truly knew his brother, the age difference and sukunas personality made it hard

You softly smiled to yourself “he was… well you know how he is but it worked well for us, I think we balanced each other out. He was funny in his own way, genuinely smart and” you trailed off for a few seconds before continuing “he was good to me… I don’t think I ever had any genuine complaints”

Yuji couldn’t help but feel angry, even after what doesn’t seem like an amicable break up you didn’t seem to be as angry as you should, or maybe you’re just pretending to save his brothers image he doesn’t really know

“Why do you ask? Just curious?” You asked snapping him out of his thoughts

“Uh yeah, I just don’t know a lot of people who would willingly deal with him so I was… intrigued I guess you could say”

You nodded in understanding, in a way thats what drew you to sukuna to begin with. There was something about sukuna that made you want to understand him, to know him. Throughout the years of being with him you feel like you got close, there were times where you felt like you knew him like the back of your hand and sometimes you felt like you were back in high school not understanding what you were looking at. Even if it ended bitterly, you couldn’t convince yourself that he was better unknown.

Sukuna was never a man who was amazing with words, he was smart but he just didn’t spend much time concerning himself with wording things in a nicer way. There was a disconnect with other peoples emotions too, not that he didn't understand them it just wasn’t something he cared to indulge in. And yet when it was you, he’d try his hardest to phrase things in a less… apathetic way and he’d actually ask how you were feeling, he’d encourage you to speak up if something was bothering you. He brought out a more assertive and less apologetic side of you— in the best ways.

All of this of course in a somewhat strained way as it didn’t seem like something he knew how to do. Because for some reason anything out of sukunas mouth sounded like teasing, sarcasm or straight up bullying. Despite his demeanor, he was always so clingy too, once he got over his pride of him being so weak around someone he would always need to be next to you or holding you in some way. You found it so endearing, it was the most affectionate he was capable of being when his words often failed him. You laugh to yourself at the memories of him following you around at parties not letting go of the hold he had on your hand.

Yuji side eyes megumi concerned as to why you zoned out and seemingly laughed at nothing before you spoke up again “he mentioned you a few times, he said you were a brat but a good kid”

Yuji cant tell if he feels happy about that or not, it’s not like sukuna ever told him these things himself. Was it really that hard? Yuji knows he was spared the unpleasantness of their parents because whatever they were like is the reason why his brother doesn’t seem to emote properly. Still, as annoyed as it made him, a small part of him feels glad that his brother thinks he was a good kid.

Megumi felt a little out of place not knowing sukuna on the level that you and yuji did so he busied himself by getting a glass of water trying to figure out if maybe you were gonna mention airi. His birthday was coming up and it would make things easier if Yuji just knew already but megumi also ran the risk of yuji never talking to him because he never said anything about airi before.

“Can I ask how you figured out we knew each other?” You asked yuji because a small dumb hopeful part of you wanted to know if sukuna had mentioned you recently

Yuji genuinely did not know how to answer that he hadn’t thought that far ahead so he decided to lie “oh well, he saw gojo pick fushiguro up at the movies a while back he told me he hated gojo but that he knew him in high school and so I guess I just assumed maybe you did to”

“Why not just ask gojo?” Megumi butted in

“Well if they didn’t like each other id rather not offend gojo by asking that” yuji laughs

You and megumi glance at each other feeling like theres not so much truth in his claim but you decide its not worth prying about considering you had something to hide too so you shrug it off “Gojo didn’t hate him, it was more of a one sided problem that your brother had” you laughed

Yuji laughed in response before clearing his throat “im sorry again, for asking and about how he ended things”

“Its not yours to apologize for but thank you, yuji”

The smile you gave yuji made him feel simultaneously sad and relieved. He still feels like you’re not telling him something but he chops it up to the fact that maybe you won't tell him the real reason you and sukuna broke up.

You broke his train of thought by excusing yourself to your room and once you leave yuji speaks up

“Did she tell you about sukuna?”

Megumi wasn’t sure how to answer that “yeah, but it wasn’t in detail I only knew they dated”

Yuji nodded his head “are her and gojo a thing?”

Megumi chokes on the water that he was drinking “no, not at all they’ve just been friends forever, I don’t know how because gojo is… truly something else”

He wonders why yuji would even care if you and gojo were together but he just hopes its a harmless question

———

The rest of the afternoon goes by as smoothly as it can despite the awkwardness and the conversation lingers in yujis mind right up until he arrives home. As he enters he’s surprised to see sukuna still on the couch eating and drinking a beer— so much for having a hangover

Sukuna eyes yuji as he enters the kitchen to serve himself some dinner knowing he just came back from your house, sukuna sees yujis presence in your life as an act of betrayal on yujis part even if yuji didnt know the full story

As yuji walked into the living room to join his brother, sukuna speaks up noticeably irritated “You didn’t eat over there?”

Yuji rolls his eyes “does it matter? Im hungry now”

Sukuna mumbles something under his breath before taking another swig of the beer

“Why did you break up with her” yuji speaks up he doesn’t even bother to say your name because who else would he be talking about

This earned an intense glare from sukuna “Thats none of your business kid”

“I know but-“

“What did she tell you about me”

Yuji sighs, agitated that sukuna just always has to be defensive “she didnt say anything”

“I don’t believe that, how did you know it was me that broke up with her?”

Yuji feels his patience snap before half shouting “because look at you!” He quiets down before he mumbles the next part “you just ruin anything good”

Sukuna feels the anger and irritation from the past days swell up in him mixed with shock that yuji would speak up against him like that “you have some nerve speaking to me like that brat”

“Can you just answer me? Why did you break up?”

Sukuna chugged the rest of his beer before standing up and walking to the kitchen to put his dish in the sink. Yuji hears his brother move stuff around in the kitchen while he stares down at his plate, upset that sukuna is incapable of functioning properly. The tv that was on in the background only grew to overwhelm yujis thoughts so he grabbed the remote to mute it before sukuna made his way back to the living room, but not sitting down

“It wasn’t gonna work out, she expected too much” sukuna responded before grabbing his phone, wallet and keys before exiting the house leaving yuji with his thoughts

Yuji cant help but feel like that was a useless answer, because it was.

In the dead silence of the living room, the sound his fork scraping against the plate began to make him feel even more alone than the days before so he turns to the tv unmuting it before trying to distract himself with a dumb movie. But as it played he still couldn’t keep his thoughts from wandering to all the times he’s had to do this, eat dinner alone, deal with his grandfather alone and just living life alone.

———

Sukuna decided to go for a walk because he could not stand the idea of yuji asking him more pointless questions that he didn’t want to answer. Especially since the topic of you came out of nowhere, yet he feels himself hope that you asked about him, not because he wants to see you but because he hopes that you haven’t moved on. As fucked up as it is for him to think, he’ll never be able to stop himself from feeling that.

He decides to pull out his phone and look for your social media again. He unblocked you only to find all accounts private and the profile picture isn’t there, nor did your bios say anything about you almost as if you didn’t use it anymore. He saw that you had a few posts but he doesn’t know if those were even recent and he’s briefly tempted to request you, but then he has to remind himself that he didn’t want to talk to you, right?

So he has a brilliant idea of looking for gojos social media, that wouldn’t be hard he was a social person. But all accounts were wiped of any personal information and looked like he tried to keep it professional, no doubt for his job, hell even his bio only said his name and profession. So the search ended up being useless, and he gained nothing, he finds himself getting frustrated that his curiosity is eating him alive. It shouldn’t even be a thought to him.

And he has a brilliant idea of the next time the opportunity comes around maybe he’ll give yuji a ride to your house or pick him whatever works. He can always pretend like he didn’t know it’d be you, even though at this point absolutely no one would buy that. He doesn’t even realize that he’s been planning on how to coincidentally run into you and when he does he has to reaffirm that it’s not because he wants to see you, because if he allows himself that he knows he’ll go crawling back to you.

next chapter

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. iii

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter | gif credit

chapter summary: Somehow, you realize you've accidentally ended up spending almost every weekend for the last month and a half with either one, or all of the Millers. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 8.7k chapter warnings: some angst, alcohol consumption, marijuana use, suggestive thoughts (but no smut), referenced parental neglect, implied age gap. reader has daddy issues (shocker!) & a fear of intimacy. a/n: this chapter is so disgustingly sweet it might give you a cavity. truly. but its also a little self-indulgent because joel is in my dream blunt rotation :/ please be patient with updates because i have a career/social life/apartment, and am a perfectionist! i promise i will always (try) to make the wait worth your while. Also, here's a link to the song Joel plays on guitar, since it's not on Spotify so I couldn't add it to the playlist.

-April 19, 2003- 

“Well, that was awkward.”

Obviously, Joel thinks to himself as Sarah turns to watch the retreating form of her teacher, while Joel stares straight ahead at the crowd in front of him. At first, he had thought she was just being polite. It was the right thing to do, to say hello to a parent and a student if you see them outside of class. But…they were seeing each other at a bar. And she’d asked him to dance. 

We just got here, maybe later? Joel can’t even remember what he had said, something along those lines. It wasn’t a flat-out refusal, but he had been acutely aware of Sarah’s eyes boring into the back of his head from where she sat beside him, and he sort of blacked out, couldn’t recall what had caused her to get the hint, to walk away. 

Joel grunts an affirmation to Sarah, and drums his fingers against the tabletop. There’s a dance floor full of people in front of him, all under various levels of intoxication, all of them dancing. 

“Do you believe me now?” Sarah asks. 

“I never said I didn’t believe you.”

How he had allowed Tommy and Sarah to talk him into coming here tonight, he’s not sure. Probably, it had something to do with how much he loved them both. How he would, ultimately, do whatever they asked if he knew it’d make that happy. But still, honky-tonking is the last thing he wants to be doing at the end of a long week. 

There was pretty much only one decent bar in town, so he wasn’t exactly shocked he had run into someone he knew. Everyone came here – to dance, to drink, to eat, or to drown their sorrows. To see their friends, or even to find someone to take home for the night. And over the years, as a frequent customer, Joel had used this place to do all those things.

Tonight was special though, a little more family friendly. It was swing night. It happened once a month, and Joel had always made a point to take Sarah a couple times a year. When he was young, his mother had taught him and Tommy to dance, and he felt it was only appropriate to pass the skill along, even if it was almost obsolete. He hoped Sarah would be able to do the same someday, if she ever had children of her own. 

“Will you dance with me, at least?” Sarah asks.

“Of course I will,” Joel answers.. “But let’s wait for Tommy, he’s ordering our drinks.”

“You mean your drinks.”

“No, you got a Shirley Temple.”

Sarah narrows her eyes. It’s the same expression that Joel has only seen her use recently, and he actually prefers it less to the eye roll. This time, he’s glad it hasn’t come with a question from her, because when it does, it’s always a little more frightening. “Come on, you know that’s not the same.”

Before Joel can respond, he’s cut off by Tommy’s voice. 

“Look who I found.”

This is what he and Sarah have been waiting on, and Joel turns to sees Tommy with all three of their drinks in hand. Over his shoulder, there’s a woman who looks vaguely familiar, wearing daisy dukes and a plaid shirt. After a second, he realizes it’s you.

Most of the time when Joel sees you – from across the street, of course – you’re in a power suit, a pencil skirt. Sometimes, it’s more casual – athletic clothes. There was also that black silk robe he can’t seem to shake from his memory. But this is so…different. It’s clear you’re trying to blend in with the crowd, but you don’t. Not because you’re not pulling it off – you definitely are, effortlessly – he’s just pretty sure if he walks into any room you’re in, his eyes will always be drawn in your direction. 

Joel doesn’t see, but rather feels – Sarah recognize that you’re in front of her, because when she does, she’s tapping him on the arm before he can utter a greeting. “Dad, can I get out and say hi?”

He’s standing to let her out just as you step closer to the table, and you come chest to chest. “Hey,” he says. 

“Hi, Joel,” you say, a soft smile on your face. Your eyes remain locked on his just a moment too long, before Sarah is wrapping you up in a hug, and you’re focused on her when she draws back. “How are you?” you ask. 

Joel doesn’t hear Sarah’s response, because his brother is pressing a drink into his hand - a Jack and Coke, same as what you and Tommy are drinking. 

“Sit down, please!” Tommy encourages.

“Are you sure?” you ask. “This looks like a family thing, I don’t want to-” 

“Please!” Sarah exclaims. 

“What she said,” Tommy seconds Sarah’s sentiments.

For a second, you seem to contemplate the offer, and then you accept the invitation, sliding into the booth across from where Sarah has settled back next to her father. Joel makes eye contact with his brother, sitting next to you. Tommy’s eyebrows are raised suggestively, and there’s a playful smirk on his face when he tilts his head in your direction. Joel gives him nothing, already irritated by his brother’s goading. 

“Is that a Shirley Temple?” you point to Sarah’s drink. When she nods, you continue. “I haven’t had one of those in forever,” you say. 

“Want a sip?”

“Sure,” Sarah slides the glass across to you, and you sip from the straw, pondering. “I should’ve gotten one of those instead. They were my favorite growing up.” 

“Can I have a sip of yours?”

“No,” you and Joel say at the same time. 

“You’re not gonna like it,” he adds.

“You always say that, but how can you know?”

Joel sighs. “Okay, fine. Try mine.”

Sarah seems pleased to get what she wants. When the bitterness of the whiskey registers, the triumphant expression leaves her face completely. 

“Told you,” he says. Sarah grimaces, accepting defeat, and returns to her beverage. 

Tommy leans forward, urging Joel to start making conversation as if this is a date and it’s his responsibility. But before he can think of anything, Sarah pipes up. 

“Guess what?” she asks you.

“What?”

“My teacher’s here.”

“Yeah?” you ask. Joel takes a long pull off his drink, hoping it’ll loosen him up a little. 

“Yeah, she tried to hit on my dad.”

Joel feels the cocktail of whiskey and soda get caught in his throat.

“Oh….” you sound intrigued, and you lean forward. He wonders if this is the dynamic between you and Sarah when he’s not around. Like you’re two friends, engaging in some harmless gossip. “Really?” Your gaze flickers between him and Sarah. 

Sarah bobs her head once. “She has a thing for him. I can tell.”

“What makes you think that?” his brother joins in, moving closer to Sarah, crowding you between himself and the wall and putting his elbows on the table. Joel feels a flash of envy when you shift your attention towards Tommy.

“She just asked him to dance.” Sarah looks over her shoulder, nods her head towards the woman in the corner of the bar who’s probably already focused on his table anyways. Joel already knows what you’re seeing. Miss Davis is pretty, bubbly, outgoing. Probably about your age, if he had to guess, though it’s hard to say how old you are. He imagines he has ten years on you, give or take a few. And for all intents and purposes, Sarah’s teacher is the type of woman he should be interested in. 

“She’s pretty,” you say it like you’re appeasing Sarah, but you’re looking directly at Joel. He’s not sure why you kind of frighten him a little. You’re sweet, he knows, even if you’ve tried to tell him otherwise. But there’s something else there, enigmatic and alluring, that continues to draw him in. 

Tommy chimes in. “So are you gonna dance with her, Joel?”

“Uncle Tommy,” Sarah says dramatically. Her face drops for a second, though, her shoulders slumping as she angles herself towards him, lowers her voice. “I mean, if you want to, that’s fine, I guess. But I….I don’t know.”

Joel is taken aback by how long this conversation has gone on with absolutely no input from himself. Not to mention how honest Sarah is being. She doesn’t usually have much to say about his choice in women – he can usually just tell what she thinks. For her to express something so directly makes him realize how serious she is. But at the moment, he can’t find words to assure her everything will be fine. 

It must be his lack of response that causes you to lean across the table and speak to Sarah. “You know, that’s valid,” there’s a tenderness to your tone. It dawns on him that you’re trying to comfort her. “It is kind of a conflict of interest.”

“Right?” Sarah perks up, just slightly, you’ve given her some support. “It’s one of those things you said you had going on at work the other day an….an ethical…” 

“An ethical dilemma?” you finish her thought.

“Ethical dilemma! That’s it.” Sarah turns back towards Joel. “I think it's an ethical dilemma.” 

For just a split second, he wonders why he’s been letting his already-precocious child hang out regularly with a lawyer. He’s accidentally creating a monster. But thankfully, Joel is finally able to find his voice. “There is no ethical dilemma, because I wouldn’t ever consider it.”

That seems to placate Sarah, and hopefully everyone will decide to drop it. Joel catches your eyes, and there’s something akin to wistfulness there, chin propped on your hand, before you blink once and focus back on Tommy, who's asking you a question. “So, are you here alone?”

“Is it that obvious?” 

“Not at all,” Tommy smirks, not dropping his eye contact with you. “...It’s just surprising, is all.”

Joel stiffens.

“Oh, well…” you smile a little. “I’m just trying to get to know the town a little better. Trying to engage in the community, I guess. But…I’m not sure if I am doing that great of a job fitting in.”

“You are,” Joel interjects, and maybe it’s a little forward, but he’d rather say it before Tommy does. “That’s a nice flannel.”

“Thanks,” You look down at your oversized plaid shirt – the sleeves rolled up to the elbows – that hangs open over a tight white tank top. Joel can see a sliver of the black lace bra you’re wearing that pokes out above the low neckline. He wonders what it might feel like to press his face there, to feel your fingers carding through his hair, but does not allow himself to entertain the idea for very long. Not the time. “I actually had to go and buy it because I didn’t own any plaid. And by the looks of it,” You gesture towards the dance floor. “I need to invest in some cowboy boots, too.”

“One thing at a time, right?” he asks, and you agree.

“So what are you all doing here? Family outing?”

“We actually had to drag this one kicking and screaming out the door,” Tommy points to Joel. 

“You did not,” Joel defends himself.

‘We kinda did,” Sarah says. “Do you know how to dance?”

You shake your head no, look at the people twirling and dipping and dancing in pairs. “Not like that.”

“It’s really easy! I can teach you. My dad taught me.”

“Cute.” Joel looks towards Sarah, and catches you staring instead. Your eyes flit back immediately to his daughters. “But I’m not sure I’ll be any good.”

“You’ll be fine,” Sarah says like it’s already settled. Joel knows he’s spoiled her, that she ultimately gets what she wants. He worries sometimes that others won’t find her quite as endearing. 

“Sarah,” he warns. “You’re making it sound like she doesn’t have a choice.”

You hide a smile behind the rim of your glass. “It’s okay. You can teach me. Might as well learn, if I’m trying to fit in.”

Sarah seems satisfied.

“Joel tells me you grew up in New York City.” Tommy says it, and Joel notices you raise your eyebrows at the implication. He’s talked to Tommy about you. And now you know. He’s pissed at himself for doing it, but at the time he’d been drunk, a little more chatty and vulnerable than usual, and had mentioned you more than once. Too much to be a coincidence. The issue was, Joel had never expected you would talk to Tommy again. If he’d known you would, he wouldn’t have said anything. He doesn’t want to imagine the damage he had done when it was just the two of you, alone at the bar. But even now, he’s completely at his brother’s mercy. 

“Yep,” you nod. 

“You don’t have much of an accent,” Tommy remarks. 

“Not everyone has them.” 

“That’s fair.”

“I did, uh, go to a boarding school in a different state, though, so I wasn’t around it too much.” 

“Boarding school?” Sarah turns to Joel.

“Basically you live at school,” you answer her question. ”Kind of like college, but earlier. I started going when I was nine.”

Sarah frowns. “Wouldn’t you miss your family?” 

“Yes, and I did.”

“So why would you go?”

“Well…” you trail off, shift your weight. “It wasn’t up to me. My dad worked a lot, so it made sense.”

“What’d he do for a living?” Asks Tommy. 

“He’s a criminal defense attorney....owns his own firm and it does pretty well, so…” you shrug. “He was very busy.”

“And that’s why you’re a lawyer? To work for your dad?”

“At one point, that was the plan, yes."

“What happened?”

The question appears to make you uncomfortable, you cross your legs and glance down at the table. “Uhm….pass.” Joel sees your face go blank for a split second before you look up with an easy smile. It’s like the desolate look you’d been wearing was never there, and you point to your drink. “I’ll need a few more of these if you want that story.”

“Might as well order another round,” Tommy flags down a waitress.

You have one more drink, but you don’t really touch it as the four of you continue to talk. Joel has two more, and Tommy has three, because he’s Tommy, and also not driving. Both you and Joel also have to vehemently refuse his request to do a round of tequila shots. 

After a while, Sarah gets bored, then insists on teaching you to dance. You agree, but seem awfully reluctant. Joel wants to pull you aside and let you know that you don’t have to entertain everything Sarah offers, but once you’ve stood up, and he watches her arm link through yours as you both walk to the dance floor, he can’t bring himself to intervene. 

He’s never seen Sarah be so taken with someone before, and he’s filled with a vague sense of regret. He always thought that she was content with just him and Tommy. Maybe she has always needed more. It’s partially his responsibility, Joel thinks –  what could he have done to stop her mother from leaving? Even if he could’ve stopped it, they would’ve been a miserable couple…which might have been more damaging to Sarah than her mother not being around at all.

Once you’re long gone, Joel can sense what Tommy is thinking before he even opens his mouth. 

“Shut it,” Joel says before he can even hear his brother's ribbing. 

“I wasn’t even gonna say anything about that!” Tommy raises his hands, but Joel knows he’s lying.

“We should go over there,” Joel says. He trusts you, but in a bar full of drunk people isn’t interested in being far away from Sarah for too long. Both he and Tommy abandon their booth to mosey their way towards the dance floor. 

Sarah has taken you into a back corner, far away from the band playing, where the crowd has thinned a little. There’s room for him and Tommy to lean up against the wall and watch you both. 

Both your hands are clasped with Sarah’s, and she’s teaching you the counts, the steps, while you study the way that your feet move.

Joel has a feeling that if it weren’t for his daughter, you wouldn’t have hung out with his family for so long. It’s just like the hike, and as usual, he feels more like a third wheel than anything else. You’re right that you do look a little out of place here. Maybe you don’t belong,  but he likes it. You’re wearing a pair of beat up hi-tops, which are a sharp contrast to Sarah’s baby blue cowboy boots that are covered in rhinestone butterflies. He’d gotten them for her for Christmas that past year, and she only wore them during special occasions like this.

Joel is doing the best he can not to think about the way your legs look in those fucking daisy dukes. All on display, and he wonders what it might feel like to drag his tongue up the soft skin of your inner thigh, feel you quiver and whimper as he works his mouth closer to– Enough. He’s disgusted with himself for thinking about you like that right now. 

“Dad, look!” Sarah says, and it seems you’re catching on all right, but none of it looks graceful. Sarah’s trying to lead – which she has never done – so she falters often, and also can’t quite reach all the way above your head when she tries to spin you around. “Oh no, look at his face!” Sarah points. You turn his direction, and Joel realizes he has to neutralize the grimace that has crept onto his visage. “We definitely aren’t doing good.”

“I’ll get the hang of it,” you turn back to Sarah, assure her. “You’re a good teacher.” You’re being nice. Too nice, humoring her and laughing it off, even if she’s making a fool of you both. But you don’t seem to mind, because it’s making her happy. 

All of the sudden, the toe of Sarah’s boot catches on the scuffed wood floor and she lurches forward. Joel immediately pushes himself off the wall as though he could close the space and catch her before she faceplants, but he can’t, and he can already see a vision of himself sitting in the emergency room at 2 a.m waiting, while Sarah holds an ice pack on her nose. But you reach out before the image is fully realized, arms wrapping around her shoulders. “Careful!” You warn. And even though you shuffle forward with the weight of her, you keep her from falling. Once she realizes she’s safe, Sarah giggles and throws her head back, her eyes catching your own. 

He’s not sure what makes him do it. It could be the liquor, the way you look, the unspoken pressure from Tommy. Or maybe he’s just been wanting an excuse to be closer to you. Most importantly, at this rate, he feels like Sarah is going to hurt herself and also you in the process. Regardless of what the reason is, Joel decides to step in. He walks onto the dance floor.

“Alright,” Joel says once he’s gotten closer, looking at Sarah. “I can’t watch this anymore.”

“What?”

He halts in front of his daughter, jerks his hand. “Move. I’m takin’ over.”

Sarah rolls her eyes, but smiles a little, and drops her hands from your shoulders. Joel offers you his hand. “You mind?” 

You look between Joel and Sarah, and she gives you an encouraging nod. “He taught me, he does know what he’s doing.”

“Well okay,” you take Joel’s hand. “You better not embarrass me,” and then you actually fucking wink at him. Already overwhelmed by the delicate weight of your hand in his palm, it almost sends him over the edge. He’s lucky he’s in public, with his family, because he doesn’t think he’d behave himself otherwise.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Joel answers. “Besides, I don’t think anything could be worse than what I was just watching.”

You giggle, and step forward when he tugs you just closer to dance, taking you fully in his arms. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sarah dragging Tommy onto the dance floor. Everyone is taken care of.

You’re smart. And because of it, you’re a fast learner. Even people who can’t really dance can usually figure this out, himself included. But in Joel’s opinion, it’s always been less about getting the steps right, and more about who’s keeping him company. 

And you’re great company. 

Eager, willing, gentle…soft. He’s embarrassed at how long it’s been since he’s been this close to an adult woman, and normally he might be a little nervous, but instead, he just feels…comfortable. 

But Joel is a selfish man. He always wants more. Wants the band to play a slower song, so then he’d have an excuse to pull you closer. Wind an arm around your waist, whisper things in your ear that no one else could hear, and feel your breath hitch when they register. But this isn’t really the dance for that, and the rest of his family is just steps away. He’ll have to compromise – which he doesn’t like. 

“I’m going to dip you,” Joel says, matter-of-factly.

“No you’re not.”

“I am,” he insists. “It’s essential.”

“I seriously doubt that.” 

“Look,” he tilts his head to Tommy and Sarah, and the latter is laughing as she pitches all her weight backwards into his arms. He nearly drops to one knee to catch her, she’s still so petit, but their form is actually pretty good. And they aren’t the only people in the room doing it. 

“Okay,” you say, and give him a warm smile for a split second before becoming stone-faced. “But if you drop me-”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” Joel drawls.

He puts his arms around your waist, one of them catching the middle of your back, the other on a patch of exposed skin on your hip – your tank top has ridden up slightly with all the movement. You dig your fingers into his biceps, cling to him like he had hoped you would.

And even when he draws you back up, eyes locked with your own, your grip remains the same. You stay close. 

“My turn,” Tommy interjects, and Joel can’t help the dirty look he gives him over your shoulder. He’s playing the annoying little brother, doing everything he can to piss him off. His brother wants to see Joel break, but he’s not going to give him the satisfaction.

Plus, Joel is happy to dance with Sarah, which is the whole reason they came here in the first place. She’s so excited to be there, and he wonders if there will ever be a time when she’s too grown up for things like this. He hopes not. 

He ignores the sound of Tommy’s laugh mingled with your own. You were not laughing that much with him, and that causes a pang of jealousy. Joel doesn’t like acknowledging it, but he’s always resented Tommy for his ability to be the charismatic one, the charming one, the happy-go-lucky one. Even when they were kids. That’s what it’s like to be the oldest sibling. Never as fun, always more practical, more serious, the voice of reason. Always in service to their siblings, all in the name of love. 

Eventually, you and Sarah are back dancing together, and since you’ve had some practice separately, it’s not as sloppy as before. It allows Joel and Tommy to return to their post against the wall, just out of earshot.

Joel feels his brother’s eyes on him as he watches you and Sarah. “Dude,” he finally gives in, looks over at Tommy. “Just ask her out already.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Tommy-”

“You’re into her.” 

“Maybe,” Joel says, because he knows it’s pointless to lie. “But she’s got a boyfriend.”

Tommy elbows him. “So what?”

“I know you’re alright bein’ a homewrecker but I-”

“It makes sense Joel. She’s fuckin’ smart, and funny, and pretty. And Sarah fucking loves her-”

In any other situation, he would’ve acted weeks ago. But he’s starting to understand why he’s dragging his feet. Tommy’s right. Sarah adores you. Joel will fuck something up, it’s inevitable. And when you decide you never want to speak to him again, Sarah will lose you too. He’s already let her down enough. 

“I should’ve never fuckin’ told you–”

“Take her to drinks, to the movies, dinner, show up at her house with a bottle of wine, hell, something. If you don’t ask her out already, then I will.”

Joel punches his brother on the shoulder. It’s not enough to incite an actual fight, but it’s definitely not playful. “Ow!” Tommy grips at his arm. “What?” When Joel doesn’t answer right away, he rolls his eyes. 

“Speaking from experience, I’m surprised you haven’t already,” he raises an eyebrow.

“Once, Joel. That was one time. Will I never hear the end of it?”

“No,” Joel says. “And I see what you were doing tonight, too. Don’t think you’re slick.” he hopes to change the subject, and it seems to be working. 

Tommy sets them back on track. “Well, I was just trying to get you to wake the fuck up and see what’s in front of you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What happens when Sarah grows up? Goes to school, leaves the house? Then, what are you gonna do? You’re just gonna be alone?”

“You are treadin’ on some mighty thin ice, Tommy,'' Joel hisses. ““You barely know this woman-”

“I’d like a family, too, Joel. When that happens I won’t be able to keep you company anymore. You might want someone else. And maybe it’s not her, fine. But there should be someone.”

For as much as he hates to admit it, Joel knows Tommy is right. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-April 25, 2003- 

It’s six at night. and you’re already in your pajamas. 

A couple years ago, you would’ve thought that was pretty sad. These days, it’s only a little sad. You prefer things this way. That’s the perk of being an adult living alone. If you want to put on pajamas before the sun sets on a Friday night, you can. If you want to get stoned on the back porch of the house you bought yourself, you can. If you want all those things to happen while you watch the sunset and listen to yacht rock, you can. And you’re going to. 

You’re toying with the new digital camera your brother bought for you. Vincent likes to argue with you, but he always feels guilty after a conversation gone wrong. Rather than use his words, however, he just buys you gifts. You had apologized over the phone a few days ago…this was his way of doing the same. The shutter clicks as you snap a photo of your backyard, and you look at it in the viewfinder before discarding the camera on your coffee table.

Martini is on the porch with you, doing that thing where he stands just out of reach but chirps at you until you pet him. When you reach out, he moves away. He’s not great at accepting what he wants. Maybe it’s why he’s sort of the perfect cat for you – you’re the same. 

You light your bowl, and you’re mid-inhale when you hear someone call your name. 

“Hey!” 

At this point, you’d recognize Joel Miller’s voice anywhere. You don’t want to admit it’s because you’ve tried to commit it to memory, daydreamed about how it might sound for his smooth lilt to read you a book until you fall asleep, or listen to him take a phone call in the other room. 

Realizing it’s him, you inhale sharply, forgetting what you’re in the middle of and taking a much bigger hit than you had intended. You begin choking violently on the smoke while simultaneously scrambling to hide your piece and the related paraphernalia sitting out, and manage to do so just in time for him to round the corner. 

You scramble to hide your bowl under the pillow of the outdoor couch you sit on, just in time for Joel to appear at the screen door. 

“Hey,” you say, covering your mouth. Your throat burns, and you cough again. Stay cool, stay calm. Everything is good. “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry, I tried your front door and you weren’t answering, so I thought I’d see if you were back here.” It’s hard to see him from here, through the door, and he’s backlit by the sun that’s shimmering behind his dark hair, catching it in a golden halo. 

You rise to open the door, and when you do, he continues. “I’m here to pick up Sarah’s soccer jersey.”

Right. Of course he was. She had left it a few days before, and you had assumed she’d come get it before her game on Saturday but it didn’t dawn on you until now that she ever had. 

“I would’ve sent her, but she’s at a sleepover tonight.”

“Oh yeah,” you nod, standing in place. You’re trying so desperately to act normal, words evade you.

Joel squints at you, a slight smirk on his face. “I didn’t catch you off guard or anything, did I?’

“No, no, not at all,” you lie. “Come on in.”

Joel steps over the tiny dish of cat food you’ve left on your back step for the stray you feed, and into the screened-in porch. Now that he’s under the dim light, you get a better look at him. A loose-fitting flannel hangs open over a worn green t-shirt that barely meets the top of his jeans. His hair is damp, like he’s just showered, and he smells clean. In any other situation, you’d want to climb him like a tree, and he’s not even trying. But right now, you’re just doing your best impression of a sober human that is definitely not doing anything illegal. The truth is, you should’ve made him wait outside.

“This is nice,” Joel says, looking around. And you really wish he wasn’t because you notice that you left the clear plastic baggie containing your weed out on the couch. It sort of blends in with the green floral pattern, so you hope for the best, because there’s no way for you to sneakily grab it without drawing his attention. “I didn't know this was back here.”

“The last owners added it on,” you say, because that was the type of thing the realtor had said to you about the features of this house. And you supposed a carpenter or contractor would probably be interested in it. It was a good distraction.

“I can tell. Looks new,” he looks up towards the wooden beams that span the ceiling. The top of the porch is still covered, so during the few times it’s rained, you always sit outside to listen.

“I’ve got her jersey in the kitchen,” you tell him. “Wait here.”

It doesn’t take long for you to pick out the bright blue athletic gear from your pile of dry cleaning. It stands out against all your neutral-colored pantsuits. Joel has his back to you when you return, one of his hands clenched into a fist. 

“Here,” you say, and he turns. 

“You had it dry cleaned? You didn’t have to do that.”

“I kind of wasn’t sure if it was safe to run through the machine,” you explain. “But now that I’m thinking about it….it wouldn’t make sense to give a bunch of 11-year-olds dry clean only jerseys.”

“It wouldn’t. But it’s probably more convenient than scrubbing the grass stains out yourself.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Unfortunately. But again…thank you.”

“Of course.”

This is where Joel should leave, walk across the street, and go home. And he does, well, at least, he starts to. He steps away, reaches for the handle to your back door, and then pauses. “You know,” he says, glancing over his shoulder. “The Watsons were tellin’ me the other day you’ve been complaining about a family of skunks living under your house?”

You freeze, recalling the lie you’d come up with on a whim when your sixty-year-old neighbors had started asking too many questions. 

“Well, it does smell a little over here.”

“Uh-huh,” you give him nothing.

“Something like that….you should really call animal control. Get rid of the problem,” Joel’s facing you now, eyebrow raised. 

“If I call animal control…they’ll just kill them,” you answer. “And I don’t want that. So…I think I’ll just have to live with it.” 

“That’s fair,” Joel says. “But you know, Sarah’s over here all the time, and I’ve never heard her mention it.”

At this point you know he’s just fucking with you. But years of remaining stone-faced through business negotiations and family dinners has prepared you for this, so even if you’re a little stoned, you’re not going to let him win. 

“Yeah, it sounds like a coincidence. But they’re never around when she’s here,” you say, in your own defense. “Ever,” you add for emphasis. 

“I guess that’s good.”

You both stare at each other for a second, and your blood buzzes slightly because even though this is just a playful standoff, you’ve never made such intense eye contact with him. It feels electric. After what feels like an eternity, Joel lifts his hand from his hip, and you see what he’d been holding in his fist, now pinched between his thumb and forefinger. He raises an eyebrow.

When you see the plastic baggie dangling in front of your face, you purse your lips. “Alright, you got me,” you lift up your hands, but snatch the bag from him. 

“And here I thought you were such a good girl.”

You don’t even want to acknowledge the full body chill that runs down your spine at the sound of those two words, coming from him. Snatching the bag back from him, he gives you a cheeky smile. “If you give me a hit, I won’t tell anyone.”

Your jaw drops, and you look up at him. “Oh, you’re trouble.”

“I’m not the one lyin’ to my neighbors.”

“And I’m not the one snooping through my neighbors' things.”

“It was right out in the open.”

Joel doesn’t seem bothered at all. But it’s Texas, so you can never be sure. “Okay, fine,” you say. “If you want….I could roll us a joint. Unless you have other plans.”

“The alternative is a house to myself for the evening and some chores, so…yeah. Whatever you’d like.”

“Great.��

Joel follows you to sit on the couch. As you settle on opposite ends, he speaks up. “So you think you could explain to me why my daughter keeps tellin’ me she wants to be a lawyer?”

You snicker. “Believe me, Joel. I’ve tried to talk her out of it already.”

He chuckles. “It’s okay. Probably a more lucrative career than what I’m doing. She’s really taken a liking to you, you know that? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her warm up to anyone so quick.”

“Well, I’m the first adult she knows that’s not an authority figure.”

“I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”

“I remember being that age,” you look down at your work. “It’s nice to have someone older to relate to, who you can talk to without being afraid of getting a lecture.”

“She probably needs it,” Joel says. “She told me you talk about girl stuff. I’m not so great at that.”

“I don’t know,” Your tongue darts out to wet the edge of the paper and finish rolling the joint. You put it between your lips, and rummage through the drawer of the coffee table to find your lighter, gesture between the both of you. “This is about ninety percent of how I spent my time with my friends at her age…and so far you’re doing alright.”

“Now you’ve got me worried about what’s going on at that sleepover.”

“Okay, well, I was maybe a little older. And with her? You’ve got nothing to worry about,” you shake your head. 

He rubs the back of his neck, and his eyes glow with the reflection of your lighter as it’s flicked on. “I don’t know.”

“She’s fine, Joel,” you say, bringing the lighter closer and shielding the flame from the calm breeze of the evening. “She’s great. Really.”

“She is,” he agrees. You inhale, let the smoke settle in your lungs for a moment, before exhaling. You take your time, feeling warm from the weed and the feeling of Joel’s eyes on you, and he accepts the joint when you pass it over.

“I really didn’t really expect this from you,” he exhales, studying your handiwork before taking another puff. “You’re pretty buttoned up.”

“This is hardly rebellious.” Instinctually, you like the idea that he thinks you’re buttoned up. Deep down, however, you don’t actually want him to.

He looks so dreamy, the smoke curling though his eyelashes, tracing along his defined jaw, and then up, up, where it settles and shifts under the porch light, before disappearing completely.

Martini, who has been in hiding, hops up on the couch, and Joel reaches out, your cat nuzzling its face into his palm. “Didn’t know you had a cat,” he mumbles. And then, like some sort of magic, the cat plops down on Joel’s lap. 

“I do…but…” you say out loud, then trail off because you’re in such shock. You glance up at Joel, who looks confused. “I’m sorry, I’ve just never seen him do this.”

He passes the joint back to you. “Do what?”

You take a final puff, and then put it out in an ashtray. It’s only about half smoked, but you can get into it later if either of you wants to. Plus, you’re more interested in what’s unfolding in front of you. “I kinda want a picture of this.”

“What?”

“I’ve had him for five years and he’s never sat on my lap like that,” you say, and you can’t keep the resentment from dripping into your tone. “What makes you so special? I’m a little jealous.”

“Of me? Or the cat?”

Something honey-thick drips down your spine at his words. You can’t conjure a witty response, opting instead for: “Shut up.”

You snap a couple photos while Joel’s still laughing, one hand on his chest, the other on Martini’s back, and then put the camera down, and lean against the back of the couch, curling your feet underneath you. 

“You’ve got a nice view of the sunset,” Joel says softly.

There’s a distant fear you might never get to see him like this again, and you want to take him in fully before you drag your eyes to see what he’s looking at. Your backyard slopes down into a small patch of woods, the sky opening even wider to let in the aureate light. 

“I know,” you agree. “It’s why I spend so much time back here.” The high continues to settle over you, strokes your shoulders, tugs at the corners of your lips.

“Surprised you like things that are so peaceful…being from the city and all…”

“The city is peaceful,” you say, thinking of the leaves swirling from the trees in the fall, and the snowflakes falling onto your family's porch in the winter, melting on the tip of your nose as you lean over the balcony to see the glittering lights below, car horns and engines and sirens piercing the darkness, white noise. “In its own way.”

“You miss it?”

“Everyday,” you say. 

“What do you miss the most?”  

“Uhm…probably the bagels,” you lie. Well it’s true. But it’s not what you miss the most. You think of your brother, flopping onto your bed on a Saturday night – a rare weekend when you visit home – and you’re trying to read A Tree Grows In Brooklyn for school but he’s begging to take you around the corner to get a milkshake. It’s the image of him you’ve so desperately tried to cling to and the recollections you share with him have only gotten more and more unpleasant as time goes on. “The bagels here suck.”

“Really?” Joel seems amused by that. 

“And uh…I don’t know. It’s part of me. I have a lot of friends there, a lot of good memories,” you smile to yourself, lean forward towards him. “I had this apartment before I graduated, right? It had the best view of this little Italian restaurant, and I’d sit and watch people through the windows, eating and talking. I was supposed to be studying, but…it was great. I loved it.”

“What’re you doing here, then?” Joel asks, and you look back at the sunset. Here you are, waxing poetic and you’re sure he can hear it in your voice. “You runnin’ from something?” You look over to find he’s staring at you. Like he knows you aren’t being honest, and he’s asking you to stop lying.

So you do the only thing you can think of, which is to ask him a question in response. “What makes you think I am?”

Joel considers this for a moment. “I don’t know. I grew up in Austin. All my friends are here, my family. If I ever moved someplace else….it’d have to be for a good reason. And even if I did, I’d be lonely.”

You stare down at the floor. “Maybe I am.” Lonely? Or running from something? The answer is both, you know, but you’re not going to clarify. “My family. Things are pretty fucked. I thought distance would help, and it does, a little. But….that shit still follows you anyways. They’re always with you, no matter what.”

Joel nods. 

“But… I have a life here. When I lived downtown, I definitely did. I don’t mind the quiet, and….I have friends.”

Joel looks at you. “You got a boyfriend, don’t you?”

Why would he think that-oh. You had tried to forget it, the morning he’d caught you still wrapped up in your robe – not the fluffy fleece one you liked the most, but the one you specifically only wore when you had guys over, cause they loved that shit.

“Oh, right,” you say. “Bradley. Yeah, uh. He’s…he’s….not my boyfriend. But…” you shake your head. “It’s a little complicated.”

“I’m sure it ain’t that hard to explain.”

“I mean…” you avoid his eyes. “He’s kind of an asshole, but we’re not really commited to each other in a meaningful way. Plus, he’s not around that much which is kind of perfect…for me.”

“Really?”

“Less to worry about,” you answer, purse your lips. “But…I don’t know. I sorta wish he got my heart rate up a little more.”

“He’s not your type?”

“I don’t really have a type,” you shake your head. “I like what I like.”

Joel rasps. “I feel the same,” and he’s made sure your eyes are on him when he says it.

You swallow, nod, smooth your hair back. “Anyways. Why’re you asking me all this?”

Joel doesn’t seem to find an answer right away. You narrow your eyes at him, studying his face, looking for something that will give him away. It’s a trick you’ve learned…silence…a bit of skepticism. It makes people uncomfortable. And Joel shifts his weight, squirming beneath your gaze. Until something in his face shifts, and he smiles….just a little. 

“So that’s where Sarah learned that.”

“Learned what?”

“That look you’re giving me.”

“What look?” 

“Like you can see right through me.”

“Can I?” You narrow your eyes further.

“You’re tryin’ to.” 

He’d done a good enough job of avoiding your question, and you’re not gonna ask him again, and instead opt for a different one. “So what about you, then?” you poke his knee with your foot.

“Oh, I’m not answerin’’ that.”

“What? I just told you, that’s not fair.”

Joel runs a hand along his jaw, ponders. “Most women don’t want to be with a man who already has a kid so…things on that front are not always easy.” 

“I have a hard time believing that. I mean, don’t you have an upcoming date with Sarah’s teacher or something?” you tease.

“That’s not happening,” he assures you. “But….I work so much these days I don’t have the capacity for much. So I get what you mean, sometimes it’s easy to not get emotionally involved but…I’ve never really been great at that.”

“You’re a relationship guy?”

“I mean, Tommy has been pestering me about this lately. Says at this rate, once Sarah’s grown, I’ll end up old and alone. Annoys me to hell, but he’s right. I wouldn’t mind…some kind of companionship. Someone to tell you you’ve done alright at the end of the day.” 

“You sound awfully romantic,” you at him blink slowly.

“I can be, when I want to.” Joel rolls his eyes. “But right now…I think I’m just stoned.” 

That makes you giggle. So he’s just being honest. “I didn’t really see much great come from settling down when I grew up, so I’ve always been a bit of a pessimist when it comes to love. What you’re saying….it’s a nicer way to think of things.”

You rarely connected with the men you dated. You chose to date douchebags, to date cheaters. It was better that way, to know up front what you were getting yourself into. The best ones didn’t ask for much, just the odd fuck here and there for a couple months, and you’d step away when things were no longer fun, if they evewere to begin with. 

Actually getting married, settling down, didn’t feel like a real possibility for you. So you’d never allowed yourself to indulge in what seemed like a fantasy. Some women aren’t meant to be a part of a family. Your father had told you once – during one of few times he’d attempted to comfort you after your mother didn’t call on your birthday – as if it excused his own neglect. 

“Yeah, and it hasn’t all been bad. I mean, I’ve had a couple good girlfriends over the years. They were sweet, fun. I enjoyed the time I spent with them, they just…never made it through the real litmus test.”

“Sarah?”

He nods. 

“It would be hard, I imagine. For her. Accepting someone new into her life.”

“Yeah.”

“You really care about her,” you say. “About how she feels. It’s nice.”

“I’m doin’ my best.”

The way he talks about Sarah makes you nauseated. It’s something pure, and you can’t help but feel bitterly nostalgic. 

“I wish my dad would have been like you.”

It slips out, and you immediately regret it. It’s been too long since you’ve gotten stoned with someone else, and you’ve forgotten your filter. And even though you’ve already divulged more to him about you than you normally would, this feels like too much all of the sudden. 

This isn’t something you can backpedal, and before you know it, Joel is leaning towards you. There’s concern written in his features, he wants to comfort, and you thank God for what happens next, or it all would’ve been too much.

His shift in weight causes Martini to jump off his lap and sprint to the door of the porch. He stares at you and then meows. 

Even though Joel isn’t touching you, you have to tear yourself away from the hold he’s got you in. ““I gotta let him in, or he’ll get annoyed.”

You move to open the door, and the cat slips inside.

“Is that a guitar in there?” Joel asks, catching a sliver of the gleaming body in the dim light.

“Yeah.” 

“You play?”  He questions, and you come to sit back on the couch. 

“Not anymore. It’s more of a decoration. How about you?” 

“A little.”

“A little?”

“A lot.” Joel smiles, looks at the ground like not sure why he’s telling you this. “I actually uh, used to want to be a singer.”

���What?” you ask. “You’re kidding.”

“No,” Joel shakes his head. 

“Joel, what?” you put a hand on his arm and lean forward, then look at the guitar.

“Why not?”

“I was…young when I had Sarah. And I had to do something that could actually help us get by.”

“Okay well, you have to play me something, then,” you rise to step inside and retrieve it off the wall. 

“No, no-”

“Come on, please?” you ask. “Don’t be a tease.”

Joel just stares as you bring the guitar out to him. 

“Although this might be out of tune…” you strum once, and wince at the tinny sound it makes. “Definitely it is.”

“Here,” Joel takes it from you. “I can do it.”

It takes him a moment, but he’s plucking the strings in a way that feels so instinctual, purposeful, you can already tell he knows what he’s doing. Once he’s finished, he strums a few chords, and everything is magically in tune. 

“Alright,” you prompt, when he hesitates. “What are you gonna play me?”

“You know any Neil Young?”

“Of course,” you answer. 

Joel nods once, looks down at the guitar, and starts playing. You’d recognize the opening chords to anywhere, but he somehow makes them sound even moodier, and bittersweet. 

Come a little bit closer, hear what I have to say…

He can sing. You’re taken aback. You’re not sure what you expected, but it’s definitely better than that. Deeper, raspier, and now you have new information about him that’s going to bounce around your brain when you’re bored during meetings at work, while you’re lying in bed at night, trying to sleep. 

Because I’m still in love with you, I want to see you dance again…

You shift your weight, sling your arm over the back of the couch, and rest your chin on your hand. Suddenly, you’re feeling a little tired. He’s all-but putting you to sleep and, somehow, that feels like the highest compliment you can give. It could be because you’re stoned, but you feel warm all over. You close your eyes, just listen, until he’s finished.

Even after he’s finished, you keep your eyes closed, settling. Until you feel something graze against the back of your hand. Joel’s. He’s matching your own pose, facing you, but reaching out…

“That was nice,” you say, earnestly. You’re good.”

Joel smiles bashfully, tugs your hand from beneath your chin and pinches your index finger between two of his own. Your nails are painted a glittery purple, and Joel studies them. Sarah had painted them earlier this week when she’d hung out after school, and had picked out the color. 

“So are you,” he shifts closer. 

He’s not quite close enough to kiss you himself. But it’s enough…he’s just giving you the chance to lean in, to close the gap. The proximity makes you dizzy, and you’re a little overwhelmed. It’s too much. It’d be too much. You can’t. You’re afraid of what he might do to you.

“We should be good, then,” Gazing at him from under your lashes, you pull back just enough. It’s not a rejection, and you can tell he doesn’t see it that way either. There’s a mutual understanding, you’re on the same page, but you aren’t quite sure what it is. The warmth of Joel’s hand leaves yours, and a part of you is filled with regret.

And then, like it never happened, the two of you spend another hour talking. He’s engaged, intuitive, thoughtful, funny. By the time he excuses himself, long after the sun has fully dipped below the horizon, you feel like he’s an old friend. An old friend you want…badly, but, you know him on a level you hadn’t before.

“Gotta be up tomorrow for a soccer game, otherwise I’d stick around,” Joel says as you’re guiding him to the front door.

“It’s alright,” you say. “You’re welcome to do this anytime.”

“You sure?” he tilts his head, leaning against the doorframe on his way out. “You might regret offerin’ that….”

“I won’t.”

--

part iv

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[frostyblustar]

Percico Confession Drabble

(Getting Together after HoO - Day 6 of Percico Week prompts by @percico-nicercy-events )

“You and Annabeth broke up!? When!?” Nico nearly spat out the soda he was drinking, his 3rd one of the night. He didn’t drink alcohol, Percy found it triggering and he didn’t like the taste. So he indulged in sweets when he got overwhelmed.

This was an overwhelming night, since Percy was coming to visit. They had been talking over Iris message nearly every day, so it was even more of a shock to have Percy tell him such an important fact in person. Why hadn’t this come up before??

Percy was very casual, leaning back and mindlessly watching the muted TV mounted on the wall. “A week ago.”

Nico lowered his drink from his lips, he was too worried about spitting it out. “What the hell happened?!”

“She helped me realize something and… That led to us realizing we wouldn’t work as a couple.” He sounded resigned, as if he knew this was a fate he was doomed to. Not some unexpected thing, which it seemed to be to Nico! They seemed so happy together.

Though the last time he saw the two in person was over a year ago. Shit.

“You cannot be serious. What sort of realization would lead to the most perfect couple I’ve ever seen splitting up??”

Percy kept his gaze on the TV, avoiding eye contact. “It’s hard for me to admit.”

“Whatever you say, I probably won’t judge you.” Nico crushed the soda can he was drinking from and chucked it into a garbage bin, pumping his fist triumphantly when it went in. He grinned for a moment before he caught Percy staring at him. Embarrassed, he muttered, “Shit, sorry. Ruined the moment.”

“No you didn’t, don’t worry about it.” After a few seconds of tense silence, Percy continued to speak. “I realized I do love her, but not in the way where I want to be in a relationship. I rushed into it too fast, and we changed as we grew up. Guess this is why people say teenage relationships don’t last huh?”

He chuckled softly, but the laughter sounded awkward and devoid of any happiness. Nico wanted sympathy to slip from his tongue. Will and him broke up a year ago, for similar reasons. Before he could, Percy leaned forward. “I realized I liked someone else. With her help.”

Nico’s heart felt like it stopped. His breath caught in his throat and he felt the urge to leave the room. There was no way it was him, right? A hopeful part of him was pressuring him to press for more, and another was telling him to run before being disappointed.

“Who was it?” Nico wasn’t expecting anything to come from the question.

“You.”

If his heart stopped before, it exploded now. He didn’t know how to respond to this confession at all. His inclination to run grew, but he kept himself rooted to his spot on the couch. This is what he wanted, for so many years. But he never expected Percy to love him too. This felt like a dream.

He couldn’t help but ask, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Percy smiled at him, “Nico, you’ve listened to me in my worst moments, and my best. You’ve been here for me, and I want to be here for you. If you’ll let me. It’s up to you.”

This couldn’t be happening, Nico buried his face into his hands to hide his happy expression. It was tonal whiplash, to go from feeling bad for Percy after his breakup, to this.

Percy’s nervousness became more obvious, “I know you said I wasn’t your type—“

“Okay, Percy. That was a tense moment for me. I really wanted to stop having feelings for you because I was ashamed of being gay, and I felt I never had a chance with you. But those feelings… Never really went away. They were always in the back of my mind.” Nico took a deep breath, “What I’m saying is- I will date you, if that’s what you want too.”

“Yes!!” Percy scooted closer and wrapped his arms around Nico’s waist, hugging him happily.

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5

Longer fics on my Ao3 :>

[sophierequests]

a deal is a deal // set it up part one

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Pairing: Kaz Brekker x gn!Reader

A/N: I have no words or reason for this fic. I watched the movie 'Set It Up' recently, and I just knew that I had to write a fic inspired by it. I didn't intend on indulging in it this much, but this fic will definitely be a two-partner since I have written almost 10K words and I can't possibly post that monstrosity in good conscience. I absolutely love the concept of matchmaking and fake dating, so consider this fic one huge clusterfuck of tropes I enjoy. And I hope all of you can enjoy it too <3

You can find part two here!

Summary: Wylan and Jesper are helplessly pining over each other, and everyone is starting to get sick of it. Especially Kaz and the reader seem to have suffered enough under their friends' behaviour. So of course, the only reasonable conclusion is to set them up.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 5.0K

Warnings: Cursing, feelings, Kaz being a little bitch, pining, mention of his touch aversion

“Unless you saw someone cheat at Three Man Bramble, I don’t appreciate you spying on paying customers.” You were close to falling off your barstool when Kaz’s voice materialised beside you all of a sudden.

“For Saints’ sake, Kaz!” you hissed at the darkly-clad man leaning against the bar to your left, a certain look of amusement accentuating his features as he saw the way you panickedly held onto the counter. He shook his head at how easily startled you were. “You can’t just sneak up on people like that. I was dangerously close to knocking you out.”

He raised his brows, throwing a telling glance at his cane, and then back at you. Sneaking around wasn’t exactly his speciality. At least not during the main business hours of the Crow Club. He preferred to make his presence known.

“Didn’t I just tell you to stop prying?” Kaz repeated nervelessly when your eyes returned to the card’s table you had been staring at for about half an hour now. Not that he would know how long you had been sitting here. It’s not like he had been watching you during said half an hour. He had other - a lot more significant - tasks to tend to, rather than wasting his time by letting himself get distracted by you.

“Shush,” you silenced him quickly, craning your head slightly towards him to get a better view of your stalking victims. “I’m not spying on paying customers. I’m spying on Jesper and Wylan. That’s as far away from paying customers as it can get.”

“And why exactly would you do that?”

“Jesper went right to the gambling tables after we came back from the job earlier, and he has stayed there ever since. I assume you can guess who has been standing right next to him for just as long? Our little merchling is so in love, it’s painful to watch,” you whispered excitedly, completely ignoring the fact that Kaz was not one to necessarily care for dull relationship gossip.

“I should stop giving you this much time off if this is how you choose to spend it,” he grumbled, subtly following your gaze to watch the terribly awkward scene between the two Crows. Not because he genuinely cared about their immature ways of expressing their emotions, of course.

“Don’t be such a grump, Brekker,” you snorted, giving him a playful eye roll. “Admit it, they’d make such a cute couple! They could probably even compete with Nina and Matthias - don’t tell her I said that.”

“Judging by the fact that Zenik and Helvar were blood-sworn enemies before they fell into their…situationship, that won’t be such a difficult task.”

“See! You think they’d be a great fit too! What a shame one is just as oblivious as the other,” you sighed, twirling around the few remaining ice cubes that floated around in your drink.

“And you think staring them down will help ease their obliviousness?” Your head turned to face him fully, a mischievous glimmer present in your eyes. A glimmer he really didn’t like.

“Help me,” you blurted out.

“Help you with what?” he asked, a quizzical expression on his face.

“Oh, uhm, I have no concise plan yet since I thought you’d just immediately say no to me asking you for help. What I know is that I can’t watch them tiptoe around their feelings any longer. I need to do something. And you are precisely the right person to help me with that.”

“What exactly makes me the ‘right person’ to help you with getting these two idiots together?”

“Think about it. I’m Wylan’s best friend, you’re Jesper’s best friend - don’t you dare deny it! Together we can get all the intel - all the important information on how they feel about each other. It’s perfect! We could set them up and they wouldn’t even notice our involvement.”

“Absolutely not,” Kaz answered determinedly, choosing to not indulge in your childish games any longer. “As long as it’s not affecting their job performance, their relationship is none of my concern. I have more important things to do than worry about their problems with intimacy.”

“Come on, Kaz. Please?” you pouted as the man in question already shifted to head back to his office again.

“No, Y/N. They’ll be fine without our interference,” he tactfully ignored your overly dramatic plea.

“Alright, alright,” you mumbled, watching him leave with a hint of disappointment settling in your chest. “You’ll regret it eventually.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Jesper, you’ll need to- Jesper? Jesper, focus,” Kaz ordered, having to pry the sharpshooter’s eyes away from the window for what felt like the hundredth time today. He, Inej and the lovesick Zemeni boy had been working on the details of a minor upcoming job for over two hours, seemingly not making any noticeable progress. It was safe to say that this issue was instantly accredited to Jesper, whose mind appeared to be somewhere completely else.

Even though Kaz didn’t want to admit it, he did regret not taking you up on your offer of trying to get the two together. It had become more and more evident that they were too blind to see that their feelings were mutual, and Kaz was starting to get sick of it. Why couldn’t they just act on their feelings and spare everyone around them the pain of having to watch them act like insecure little kids? What did they have to lose? It was ridiculous, really.

Kaz knew that he was close to losing his patience. And his composure would jump out of the window soon after if things didn’t change.

“Sorry boss,” Jesper apologised hastily, sitting up a bit straighter and at least acting as if his attention was back on the mindless scribbles in front of him. “I was just a bit lost in thought. The…weather is so pretty today, after all.”

The weather in question was a mixture of dark gloomy clouds and the occasional rain shower - a typical day in Ketterdam, but definitely far from pretty. Maybe the weather that Jesper had in mind was ginger and able to play the flute, Kaz thought.

“We should probably leave this here,” he let out a huffed breath, meeting Inej’s confused glance.

“What? But the jo-”

“The job can only work if everyone is on the same page,” he interjected Jesper’s unnecessary attempt at defending himself. “You can leave - both of you. I’ll see what I can work out on my own.”

“Are you sure you won’t need any help with this?” the Suli girl asked hesitantly, waiting for her friend to give them another task instead of just letting them off the hook this easily.

“No, it’s fine. Go,” he nodded towards the door, his eyes following Jesper, who was already on his way out. Before Inej could do the same, he decided to give her one last task. “Inej? Tell Y/N to come up here in the next five minutes. I need to discuss something with them.”

“You wanted to see me, boss?” you questioned as soon as you entered Kaz’s semi-tidy office space. When Inej told you that he wanted to speak to you, your heart almost sunk to the bottom of your stomach. People being called up to speak to Kaz rarely ever got out with their dignity still intact.

“Sit,” he demanded, his gaze never leaving the papers on his desk as he motioned for you to sit in the chair across from him.

“Kaz, if this is about th-”

“Don’t start. Whatever you were about to tell me has probably not been brought to my attention yet, so I won’t allow it to occupy my mind until it pops up on its own. Now sit.”

You carefully obeyed his request, slowly sinking into the offered chair while your eyes still remained fixed on the man in front of you.

“He has become absolutely insufferable,” Kaz sighed, letting his fountain pen drop out of his hand and finally acknowledging your physical presence with a defeated glare. “I didn’t even think it was possible for him to become even more intolerable.”

“Who exactly are you talking about?”

“Who do you think I’m talking about? Our favourite bawdy flirt-gill has been acting like an infatuated teenage girl and it is driving me mad.”

“Oh! You’re talking about Jesper!” you let out a stifled laugh upon seeing his tired expression. “So you’re basically admitting that I was right about us having to intervene?”

“I’m merely admitting that there was some truth to what you were saying. Don’t get it twisted and don’t get used to it,” he corrected dryly. “And wipe that self-satisfied grin off your face. I didn’t call you up here to bask in your supposed victory.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to do about it?” you replied sheepishly, fully aware that you were dangerously close to testing your limits.

“I’m agreeing to whatever you had in mind as long as it stops Jesper from acting like this.”

“Consider it a deal.”

“When I told you that I’m agreeing to whatever you had in mind as long as it stops Jesper from acting like a dotty puppy, I didn’t mean that you were allowed to barge into my office whenever you please,” your boss grumbled, watching you stumble through the door like you had one drink too many.

“Good morning, Kaz, it’s lovely to see you too,” you dismissed his very obviously spiteful remark, walking right up to the chair you had dubbed yours. “I’ve been thinking a lot about our two problem children and I had an idea.”

“Oh, so miracles do happen,” he jeered, letting himself lean back in his chair as he watched you get comfortable.

“With all due respect - which isn’t a lot - go fuck yourself.”

“I’ll consider it once you’re done telling me about that magnificent idea of yours.”

“Okay, so, Wylan just stopped me in the hallway to ask whether I want to get coffee with him next Friday.” A waterfall of words began to tumble out of your mouth, giving Kaz quite a few difficulties following what you were trying to say. “So, wouldn’t it be an absolute coincidence if Jesper would also go out for a coffee on Friday? It would be such a nice change of pace for them to spend time with…different people - other than us.”

“I am not asking Jesper to go get coffee with me,” Kaz replied laconically, giving you a dissatisfied look in an attempt to convey that he was not too fond of your musings.

“I am not asking you to get a coffee with Jesper - Saints, that man is going to think that you have a thing for him. We don’t even have to leave the Slat for this plan to work.”

“Now I’m intrigued.”

“Please explain to me again why specifically I have to join you on that job?” Jesper bemoaned as he followed Kaz down the stairs. He was not in the mood for playing his boss’ bodyguard today. He wasn’t even in the mood to leave the Slat. It didn’t help that a certain merchling had been occupying his mind for the entirety of last week, pushing every coherent thought to the furthest corner of his brain. “Can’t you ask Inej? Or Matthias? Or literally anyone else? Wait, why don’t you just ask Y/N? You two seem to be getting along surprisingly well recently.”

“Y/N is already busy,” Kaz objected skilfully. “And having a normal work relationship is not the same as ‘getting along surprisingly well’. Flush these thoughts out of your system immediately.”

“I’m just saying,” Jesper snickered, putting his hand up in front of him defensively.

“Kaz? Jesper?” your cheery voice greeted them as soon as they entered the living room area. Wylan and you had been lounging on the couch for quite some time now, simply chatting about life - and love, even though Wylan refused to give you too much information on his ill-fated crush. Of course, you had ulterior motives for staying that long, but your friend didn’t know that. “What are the two of you up to?”

"We have a job near Fourth Harbour," Kaz replied sternly.

"And he's forcing me to come with him," the sharpshooter groaned, his eyes drifting towards the timid boy sitting next to you, flashing him a cocky wink. "What are you up to? Whatever it is, it looks like a lot more fun than whatever Mister Ruin-My-Mood has in store for me."

"Jesper," Kaz warned, throwing you a quick glance, wordlessly asking you to take over.

"We wanted to head out for coffee and some sweet treats later," you mused, watching Jesper's expression turn sour.

"Won't you look at that, Kaz? This is what other friends do in their spare time," he grumbled.

"Hey, why don't you two just go and grab a coffee?" you offered, your gaze wandering between the two soon-to-be lovebirds.

"Us?" Wylan stammered, his finger pointing from him to Jesper, who looked equally as befuddled.

"Yes, you. Jes clearly isn't in the mood for going on a job today, and I haven't been on a proper one in ages," you suggested, giving your friends an encouraging smile.

"You genuinely want to join Kaz on a job with just the two of you? Like willingly?" the Zemeni boy joked, nudging your shoulder with his elbow.

"I'm sure I'll manage. Kaz?" You gave him an expectant look, watching as the ghost of a smirk flashed over his lips.

"Fine," he rasped, causing Jesper to break out into a wide grin, whilst Wylan looked a little short of horrified. "Maybe now we'll actually get some work done."

"And maybe we'll finally get some peace and quiet, won't we? I haven’t gone out just to get coffee in such a long time.” His attention turned to the young merch, whose head had turned as red as the soles of Jesper’s shoes.

“I’m sure you will have the loveliest of days,” Kaz deadpanned, gesturing for you to follow him outside into the hallway.

“Enjoy your day!” you called before quickly exiting the living room, leaving Wylan alone to deal with his crush. You could have sworn that he mouthed the word ‘help’ before you crossed the threshold to the corridor.

“That worked way better than I had expected,” he uttered, barely loud enough for you to hear his words clearly.

“I told you it would work,” you bragged, earning a disapproving headshake from the man standing next to you. “You’re not the only mastermind in this team.”

“So what’s the next step in your plan then?”

“We could just stay back here and wait for them to come back. I’m sure they’d tell us if something happened between them.” You locked eyes with him again, the intensity causing goosebumps to spread over his arms. “Or we could get out and follow them. Just to make sure that they’re alright of course.”

“I’m not following them.”

“This is ridiculous,” Kaz said as he watched you gape at Jesper and Wylan who were currently sitting on the terrace of the café you had pushed them to go to. You found a corner table at the bakery across from where your friends were sitting, giving you the chance to stay unnoticed while also being able to see whatever was going on between them.

“This is fun,” you hummed, leaning a bit further forwards to flash Kaz a cheeky smile, which was slightly hidden by the obnoxious fake roses in the middle of the table. “Don’t you want to see how this will turn out?”

“No.” You frowned at the impassive tone of his voice.

“You didn’t have to join me, Kaz.” He didn’t. He knew that. As a matter of fact, the pile of unfinished documents on his desk only seemed to get higher by the minute. Yet, against all his better judgement, he still abandoned his work in an instant just to go and see whether your plan was working or not. It was foolish to agree to it, however, for some reason, he still did. He was going insane - he was sure of it.

“I don’t trust you to not fuck this up on the first chance you get,” he stated after a short moment of him just staring at the empty space beside your head.

“You trust no one, yet I don’t see you holding Matthias’ hand whenever you let him go on a solo job - well, metaphorically holding his hand.”

Before Kaz could defend himself, the waitress approached your table, bringing over both of your drinks. She had a sickly sweet smile on her painted lips that made him want to bash his head onto the table. He resisted said urge in order to not make a scene though.

“I’ll assume the black coffee is for you?” the woman joked, eying Kaz’s grimly-looking outfit from head to toe, silently accepting the cup and placing it in front of him. She handed you the drink you had ordered and turned around to attend to the other guests. “Feel free to call me over in case you need anything else. Enjoy your date!”

Kaz almost choked on his own spit when he heard that. This was not a date. Not in a million years would he consider this a date. He attempted to seek some sort of confirmation that you shared his sentiment, but when he looked at your face, you didn’t even seem to care about the waitress’ atrocious assumption.

“What is it?” you inquired lowly on taking notice of his slightly bewildered expression.

“She thinks that this is a date. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“… No? Why should it have?” Kaz mentally thanked his luck that Nina wasn’t around. If she had been here to hear the way his heart was running wild she would have probably thought he had a heart attack.

“This is not a date.”

“Yes, I’m very well aware of that fact,” you let out a breathy chuckle in response to that. “And that’s exactly why it doesn’t bother me. I know that this isn’t a date. You know that this isn’t a date. So why should it matter what some random waitress thinks?”

“Oh…” For some odd reason, your answer disappointed him. This wasn’t a date, so you were right to say it. But something inside of him was beginning to make itself known.

“Oh no,” you muttered, your gaze back on the people you were actually here for. He did the same, regretting it immediately as he saw the uncomfortable scene playing out in the other café.

Wylan and Jesper were sitting across from each other at one of the tables on the terrace, giving you the perfect view of every interaction between them. But instead of them looking like the happy couple you had imagined they would be by now, Jesper was frantically collecting paper napkins, trying to help Wylan clean up the massive coffee stain that had formed a deep brown blotch on his previously neat beige sweater. And to make things even worse, the clumsy sharpshooter had taken matters into his own hands, pulling the flustered boy closer to him by the collar, whilst wiping a dry napkin over the mess he made - his face a mixture of despair and complete distress.

“Idiots,” Kaz sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to spare himself the embarrassment of watching them any longer.

“Maybe we should put them in a situation they’re more acquainted with the next time.”

“Are you familiar with the concept of knocking?” He was close to jumping out of his skin when the door to his office flew open without a warning, only for it to be you standing on the other side with two cups of tea in your hands. He hastily caught himself, acting as if you hadn't just scared him shitless. It was way too late for any person with even an ounce of self-preservation skills to enter his space without giving him any sort of notice, but of course, you just had to be the exception.

“Are you familiar with the concept of locking your door if you don’t want to be disturbed?” you quipped, not waiting for him to give you permission to enter before waltzing right over to his desk. The mug was quickly placed in front of him and you threw yourself into ‘your’ chair.

“This may be the Barrel, but some of its inhabitants still possess the basic manners of announcing their presence when they intend to bother me in my own office.” Kaz eyed your offering suspiciously, pulling the cup towards himself as if he feared that you might have spiked its content. “What is this?”

“Tea?”

“I know that it’s tea. I'm not dense,” he said, a bit annoyed now.

“Then why are you asking?”

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Kaz, you’re not a toddler. You know what to do when someone places a drink in front of you.”

“Why are you bringing me tea, Y/N?”

“That's an adequate question. I had another idea on how to get Jesper and Wylan to admit their feelings,” you began, enticing Kaz to internally question every single decision in his life that made him end up in this situation.

“And you needed to bring me tea to make me listen to that idea? You're either about to drug me into submission or you’re finally attempting to kill me.”

“Sadly neither - yet. But I had the idea while making tea. And I would have felt bad if I went up here without offering you something to drink too,” you replied meekly, a faint blush settling on your cheeks.

“I hope your idea isn’t tea-related. We shouldn’t bring the two dimwits near anything that's spillable anytime soon.”

"I solemnly swear there are no liquids involved in my idea. At least not explicitly," you assured.

"That better be the case. Let's hear it then," he muttered, begrudgingly taking a sip from his tea whilst waiting for you to collect your thoughts. It startled him how good the drink tasted. He hated that you knew exactly what tea he liked and how he liked to have it.

"You still haven't finished splitting us up in groups for the upcoming heist, have you?"

"If you hadn't dragged me along to play matchmaker, the plan would already stand," he grumbled, looking at the stack of blueprints he had yet to analyse for possible security risks.

"Then I'd like to make one suggestion. How about we - well, you - pair Jesper and Wylan together? We're all pretty familiar with jobs like this, so that shouldn't be an issue. Maybe having them work alongside each other could give their relationship just the push it needs."

Kaz looked like he was about to throw himself out the next best window. It was one thing that you had inserted yourself into the majority of his spare time like an unwelcome flu. Now you were also trying to insert yourself into his work? You were really trying to break him down to bits. And maybe he should let you.

"Please, Kaz. I'll even help you with all your boring preparation and mapping out. I genuinely think this could work," you put forward, knowing that the likelihood of him agreeing to this plan was close to non-existent.

"I'll allow it," he said, averting his eyes to look at basically anything else just to avoid letting them land on you.

"What?"

"Have you gone deaf? I said that I'll allow it," he repeated.

"Kaz, I swear to every Saint you don't believe in, I'm so close to kissing you - you’re amazing!" you exclaimed jokingly, a wide grin on your face.

"Do it and find out what ditch you'll end up in," he threatened, but you were too excited to care about the murderous look on his face.

After almost a week of scheming, scheduling and planning in the security of Kaz’s office, you had finally managed to put together a plan that would ensure two things. The success of the job. And the fact that Jesper and Wylan would be staying at each other’s side the whole time.

“I think we can pull this off,” Kaz muttered, visibly still very much in thought.

“You think we can pull this off?” you asked, absent-mindedly twirling one of his pens around your fingers.

“No.” He swiftly snatched it back, putting it down and giving you a self-assured grin. “We will pull this off.”

A few days later, all the Crows had gathered in the cramped attic space, more or less eager to hear about the plans for the upcoming mission.

“Please don’t tell me that we’ll have to go through all of these blueprints again,” Jesper whined as he saw the stack of layout plans that sat at the edge of Kaz’s desk. They had been on jobs in the University District before, so the quite hefty pile of blueprints wasn’t completely unknown to them. More than one evening had been spent slaving over them, spying out every minuscule detail that could give them any sort of advantage. But these plans were new - updated. And everyone dreaded having to do the whole ordeal of looking at them for a second time.

“Y/N and I already went through them, the annotations should suffice. Not much has changed,” Kaz answered, unaware of the suspicious glances his nonchalant comment created. It was well known that you avoided mapping out blueprints like the plague, so this revelation did raise some brows.

“Y/N and you?” Nina and Jesper blurted almost synchronously. They had noticed your absence from their usual evening get-togethers, simply chalking it up to you being under the weather or something. What they hadn’t expected was you sneaking away from them because you went to spend time with the Bastard of the Barrel. Now that they knew the latter had been the case, they had some certain thoughts on what the reason for these nightly visits might be - none of them strictly work-related.

“Congratulations, you have a basic understanding of auditory information processing. Yes, Y/N and I.” Kaz allowed his gaze to shift towards you. It felt odd to not have you sit in front of him, energetically discussing plans and ideas while the noise of Ketterdam’s streets seemed to have fully vanished underneath the sound of your voices. He hated to think that way, but he had grown used to having you around. Whether it be you staggering into his office to propose another utterly insane plot to get your friends to date, or just you keeping him company with whatever talk you could offer. The thought of this routine being ripped away from him once Jesper and Wylan realise their feelings are reciprocated filled him with more dissatisfaction than relief.

“Since when does Y/N care for analysing blueprints?” The Heartrender asked slyly.

“I don’t. It was my forfeit,” you replied before Kaz could. “We had a bet on how much money Jesper would be able to lose in a span of three days. Let’s just say that Kaz really does know you better than I do, Jes.” A lie. A good lie, Kaz thought. The only reason why you would spend your evenings talking to him would probably be the loss of a bet. But that didn’t make the pull on his heartstrings hurt any less.

“Rude,” the sharpshooter pouted.

“Anyway,” Kaz deflected, returning to his actual intention of this meeting. “We also took the liberty of assigning groups and tasks. So I’d advise you to listen carefully.” He adjusted the paper in his hands, letting his eyes fly over your jagged handwriting for the millionth time. “Helvar will pose as a guard - big and brawny with little to think about. One would say it’s the perfect fit.” Matthias let out a dissatisfied grunt at that comment. “Nina and Inej will keep an eye on who leaves, and who enters. And if there is anything suspicious you will alert me.” The two girls gave him a court nod, content that they were able to work together again. “I will attend as a guest. It’ll give me enough time and trust to hopefully get some information on the new ware shipments that are supposed to arrive the week after the ball. Our main objective is getting intel. Any other material acquisitions are just perks. And finally Wylan and Jesper.” The two boys stared at Kaz with an uncomfortable expression. He had never paired them up before. Why was he starting now? “Since the majority of university personnel will be present at the ball, you’ll take care of breaking into the administration’s office. I need some precise data on the involvement of the Council in sponsoring the university.”

“What about Y/N?” A brief pause followed Inej’s simple question.

After all these hours of planning, you had forgotten to add yourself to the equation. You had been so focussed on giving the two lovebirds some alone time that your absence went completely unnoticed. Both of you felt utterly stupid. How could you have missed that?

“They’ll be my date,” Kaz answered a bit too quickly, not letting the thudding of his heart betray his stone-faced expression.

“My condolences.” Matthias gave you an apologetic but calm look, whilst everyone else in the room seemed to be utterly shocked by their boss’ comment. Even you had to suppress the state of absolute shock that had threatened to spread over your face when he referred to you as his ‘date’. Saints, he himself didn’t believe the words that had just slipped out of his mouth.

“I’ll need someone to chat with the merchant spouses, or else I’ll lose my mind. Their presence can buy me enough time to get the information I need,” he explained, but the majority of his friends were too busy interpreting way too much into this situation to acknowledge his reasoning.

Maybe choosing Jesper as a partner would have been easier on his poor heart.

Taglist:

Grishaverse fics in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light

Kaz Brekker: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @juneberrie @writingmysanity @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @brekkers-desigirl @fall-writes

[riddle-me-ri]

A/N: No real explanation for this, it’s just a super, super self-indulgent piece for me to do a character deep dive into Jervis Tetch. Don’t mind me! Lol. I was stuck between doing this with either Arkhamverse or BTAS Jervis(pls request btas jervis i only have one idea for him and its meh to me rip), but decided to just do a general overall version of him. I bring up a lot of familiar character beats and woes so this can really fit most Jervi anyway. There’s a hint of smut but nothing crazy, cause it’s not entirely what it’s about. 

and I guess a wee late b-day gift for @mischievous-marchie they’re mostly to blame for this anyway given the few deep discussions we’ve had in general lmao. 

Trigger Warnings: depressive and anxious thoughts, venting, explicit sexual content (handjobs all about Jervis here sorry not sorry), mentions of violence and criminal acts, and strong language

Word Count: 3.4 k

General Mad Hatter x Reader - Love and Suds

One of the most dangerous places for anyone to go is the deep recesses of their own brain. 

People often spend many years trying to repress their horrid anxious inducing memories of their shortcomings. 

Jervis found himself lamenting his very life, in the cold solitude of his tiny living room in his tiny apartment. 

On his lucid days, he's aware…he's there in reality, painfully aware of everything; past and present.  

Jervis sees what he's done, and it shudders his whole body in shame. He doesn't mean to hurt anyone. He doesn't mean to take away their free will…well most of them anyhow. 

It's just how else can he be noticed? Be respected and be shown an iota of love? That's all anyone really needs right? That's all everyone wants. 

Suffice it to say, people want things from Jervis…they want them all the time. But never the man himself.

Fellow rogues and evil masterminds constantly come to steal or bargain for a smidgen of his technology. 

He hates to admit the times he agreed to such dealings, whether it was for the money or just a shot at actually developing some kind of alliance.

Only for it all to be spit back in his face. Nobody wanted Jervis the person…just the genius and what he could provide. 

No, Jervis was always too freakish, too awkward, too…creepy to some. 

Jervis could feel the walls slowly caving in on himself. 

All his atrocities from his raging escapades to find companionship only to find someone wasn't the one or only to be taken for a fool and used all this time. 

Which caused him to lash out in the most violent ways…

All the times he was used, chewed on and spit back out, no longer of use to them or anyone really. 

His fingers raked through his hair. Nails scratching at his scalp, fingertips pulling at his hair strands. 

He just wanted to make his Wonderland a reality. He wanted to find happiness in reality but it just wasn't possible so he had to resort to desperate…horrible…measures. 

"Didn't want to…I didn't want to…wanted company, wanted to feel loved, respected…h-h-heard…" 

Heard…heard..what's that noise?

Someone was knocking at his door.

Jervis blinked rapidly. Trying to come back into the external after spiraling into his internal conflicts. 

Who could it be? He debated just staying quiet and staying put and continuing his downward spiral. 

Yet, much like Alice of old, he was curious. 

Jervis slowly, almost reluctantly approached the door. He looked through the peephole. 

Oh, it was you. What're you doing here?

"Jervis? Are you there? I haven't heard from you…" 

Guilt welled up in his gut like bile in his throat he wanted to puke. In all his damning thoughts, you were completely void of them. Probably because you're one of the only few people in the whole world that seemed genuine. 

You…actually seemed to like him for him. Something so rare there were many days Jervis found it hard to believe you existed. 

Yet, he knew he didn't have any chips on you. Jervis has looked you over a time or two to ensure he didn’t plant one on your during any of his stupors. 

There you were though. You were a free roaming person…that willingly came to see him. 

Jervis slowly unlocked the door and was greeted by your bright relieved smile. 

"Oh my god, Jervis you're okay! I-I haven't heard from you. You haven't invited me over in awhile…umm, can I come in?" 

Back in Jervis' days before his Mad Hatter escapades, you were the only one that showed him any friendly camaraderie. 

You, of course, being the only one wasn't enough to prevent Jervis from succumbing to his last resort for more connections and more semblance of respect he lacked. 

Many times, Batman and the psychiatrists at Arkham called upon you to help him, but it was like talking to a bunch of brick walls when they asked for your opinion. 

Jervis nodded and stepped to the side and let you in. 

You looked around at the clear disarray of his living room. Blankets and comforters were scattered on the couch and floor. Lamp shades torn off. Cups and saucers littered and stacked on the table and floor. 

You hung your bag up by the door and took off your shoes, before looking back over to Jervis. 

He had definitely seen better days as well. 

His hair was coated in grease, his face sweaty and paler than usual. He looked like he had been wearing the same forest green bathrobe for days if not weeks. 

Jervis was rocking on the heels of his feet as he let you take in the outer representation of his inner turmoil and depression. 

"I…um…" Jervis tried to speak up. His heart cracked as you waited on him to continue with sincere ears. 

"Wasn't planning on having company…" He scratched behind his ear, nervously. 

"It's okay, I did pop in unannounced but…I was worried–" You began to explain your motive but was cut off. 

"Why? W-why bother…" 

You quirk your eyebrow at him for a moment. "Because I care about you…I know I haven't been around much and I feel guilty for it but I just wanted-"

"Don't waste your time or breath on me…I'm far from forgiveness and beyond help…"

You walked over and attempted to grab his hands in yours. "Jervis, that's not true, who told you that?" 

Jervis looked down at his feet, as his hands rested in yours but didn't return your endearing grip. 

You had a tight smile as Jervis decided to stop responding to you. He tended to shut down when words became too much, swirling in his head between the rhymes, his thoughts, and what he wishes to say. 

"It's okay, you don't have to say anything. But I'm not going anywhere. I'm sorry it took me so long to come back." 

You started running some water into the bathtub. Occasionally putting your hand through the water until it was warm enough to start filling the tub.

Jervis was still in the living room. Too exhausted to really argue with you to leave him be. Plus deep down he supposes he was glad to see you, before things got too dark again. 

"Hey, Jervy!" 

His heart skipped a beat, you hadn't called him that in…years. 

He turned his head down the corridor and saw your head sticking out of the bathroom. 

"I ran you a warm bath, you don't have to wash or anything, just relax, yeah? I'll pick up a little in the living room in the meantime…" You offered. 

You, you did what? You're going to do that? 

Panic softly set in, he knows this feeling. 

Something he's always felt for you, but reserved it. Pushed it down. Not wanting to hurt you after so long…or worse, like he did to most…

He hopped off the couch and made his way to the bathroom. Your smile almost made him smile back in return. 

"Just take it easy, I'll be back in a bit with a change of clothes. Just yell for me if you need anything." You pat him on the shoulder, before closing the door and you start cleaning up the living room. 

Jervis had to admit, it did feel nice being in here. The water felt like an engulfing warm hug, slowly rinsing off the grime, sweat, and dirt off his skin. The warm water caused his skin to redden a soft pink. 

His swarming thoughts from before still lingered but they were much fuzzier. Hidden behind some weird mental fog. 

The weight remained however as he fought on how to conduct himself with you. He could hear you moving around just outside the door. The clinking of dishes, the roaring of a vacuum. 

A knocking sound broke him once again from his reverie. 

"Are you doing okay, Jervy?" 

No response. Jervis tried to move his mouth and conduct words but nothing came out. 

"I'm coming in, okay? So…hide yourself." You chuckled softly. 

You entered the bathroom and were happy to see he at least got into the tub. You wanted to ask how he was, but felt it would fall on deaf ears. You set his change of clothes by the bathroom door. 

"Here, you don't need to do anything, but…" You walked over to the side of the tub, making Jervis slightly jump. 

"Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to scare you, but, we gotta do something with this hair, okay? Will you let me wash it?" 

Jervis hated to admit it but that sounded splendid right now. He was sick of his hair sticking to his face and being everywhere. He nodded. 

You smiled brightly, excited for the positive response. "Thank you, I promise I'll be gentle."

"N-no…uh…thank you…" Jervis mumbled. 

"Don't mention it. I just wish I got here sooner. Looks like you had tea parties without me." You joked, giggling softly. 

He softly mustered an amused scoff in return. You were always one to entertain his Wonderland fixation. You didn't question it or ridicule it. You understood and encouraged it. Even made a claim to being The March Hare (or The Dormouse on days when you were particularly sleepy and longed for a nap.)

You got behind Jervis' head with the bottle of shampoo and conditioner by your side and a couple of rags. You put a generous amount of shampoo in your hand and began scrubbing his strands. 

The contact was really nice and felt amazing. Better than all the beatings from Batman or the Arkham Asylum wards he was used too. 

He almost whined when you stopped. "Jervis…I'm gonna need you to breathe for me, okay?"

Jervis didn't even realize he was holding in his breath as you scrubbed his scalp. After a moment he slowly exhaled and began breathing in and out. You continued washing and rinsing his hair before repeating the process with conditioner. 

You two sat in comfortable silence with the occasional sloshing of water whenever you had to rinse Jervis' hair. 

The swelling panic deep in Jervis' gut was throbbing at this point…along with something else. 

You weren't under his mind control. 

You were still your own being. How were you so nice? You know better than anyone what he's capable of, but you choose to come anyway and you chose to stay. No matter how much distance he tried to keep from you so he didn't result in his usual…antics. 

There was no denying his feelings for you anymore, in this vulnerable and intimate state. He loves and adores you. His only friend, his March Hare…he just didn't know how to respond or react…how they say…appropriately. 

"Y-you don't have to stay here any longer. You're free to leave." Jervis came back up from rinsing the rest of the conditioner out of his hair. 

"Jervis…if you want me to go. I can, but I don't want to. I've missed you and I wanna help you." Your hands were still on either side of him in the water. 

"Why? Why do you wanna stay? Knowing very well what I can do…what I do to…what I've done." 

You took your hand out of the water and cupped his chin in the palm of your hand so he could look at you.

"Jervis, I've known you for a decade…and you've never not once offered or tricked me with any mind control whatsoever. And you want to know why?" 

Jervis nodded, but you still answered anyway. 

"Because you don't need to. You know you don't need to. And you never will need too. I can't tell you how many times I've tried to explain that to that dark dingus." You rolled your eyes at the mention of Batman. 

You could count on both hands and then some the nights that Batman was literally breaking and entering into your home to ask about Jervis and what made you special. 

It's because you were fucking kind to him. You liked Jervis. He's quirky, intelligent, and can be kind but you could only be so kind anymore after the world kicked you down so many times. 

You wondered just how small Batman's so-called "rogues gallery" would be if people were kinder to others and didn't seek to take advantage of other human beings. 

It saddened you immensely to see him go down the path he did when there was no way for you to interfere but you couldn't say it surprised you either. 

You looked back into his eyes, your hands moving from his chin to his cheek. "I'm aware of your past…transgressions. Your m/o but I'm not scared or worried. I do mean it, and you can quote that it's actually me…" 

You turned and rotated your head around to show the lack of headgear, microchips, and any other cranium influences. 

"...I care…no…I do love you Jervis Tetch. I'm not going anywhere…not anytime soon." 

There was a beat of silence as Jervis took in what you said.

You saw his lower lip start quivering as they fought to speak or keep in the growing pressure in his eyes and throat to cry. 

You smiled softly, and with zero care for getting wet; you wrapped your arms around him and embraced him. 

It took a minute but he slowly returned the gesture. You could feel him press his fingers down into your lower back and his arms tighten around you. 

"T-thank you…" He whispered softly in between sniffles. 

"Don't mention it." You let him go and sink back into the tub only to realize you're just as soaked as well.

You couldn't help but laugh as Jervis looked at you nervously when he realized he had gotten you wet. 

"It's okay. It'll dry, I figured it was a good idea to pack an overnight bag." You chuckled. 

Jervis felt guilty now, not for any reasons before, but for the way he kept stealing glances at your skin that was see through the wet white shirt. 

"Do you think you can clean yourself while I go change?" 

He could, he absolutely could. He wasn't a child. But damn it if he wasn't just the tiniest bit selfish for your touch and attention now. He didn't want you to get away. 

As if you possessed mind powers of your own, you jokingly rolled your eyes. "Okay, okay, I'll just finish what I started and then change, how is that?" 

You laughed in disbelief as for the first time that night Jervis actually gave you one of his signature giddy grins and an encouraging nod. 

You got back down on your knees beside the tub and grabbed one of the rags and lathered it with soap. 

Before you began washing his body, you playfully plopped the rag onto his face, causing you both to laugh. You did take the chance to clean his face and head but being mindful of his eyes. 

You were relieved to see Jervis start feeling better but it was even more satisfying to feel the tension in his neck and shoulders finally disappear. He was actually relaxed and loose. 

When you got lower under the water however, something stood at attention that you didn't think about and Jervis forgot to mention. 

Jervis gasped as you got closer to his groin and grabbed your wrist. "I-I can take it from here-I…I'm sorry." He ruined it. His one chance of true companionship was dashed because of stupid primal responses and desires.

"It's fine, Jervy, really." It really was fine, you didn't mind one bit. You were kind of flattered more than anything. 

"Y-You mean you don't mind?" 

You shook your head, "not at all, in fact if you allow me too…" 

Jervis gulped. He would love it if you did, actually. You caused it after all. 

"Y-yes, please." 

You leaned in and kissed his temple as your hands dove back into the water. You let your hand trail up his leg, occasionally groping his thigh as you got closer to his cock. 

Jervis gasped when your hand finally gripped the base of his cock. You slowly began stroking and tugging at the base, just to start the pace slow. With every pump you went higher and higher up until you finally got to the head. 

Jervis was a flushed red panting mess as you continued your gentle but steady strokes, occasionally squeezing his head in a way that made him whimper louder. 

Above the water's surface, you continued to peck sweet, endearing kisses along his face. His forehead, temple, cheek, nose. Everywhere he was comfortable with for now. 

You were still somewhat shaky from your confession and Jervis' lack of reciprocating or response of one, but you knew he would say it when he’s ready in due time. The fact he’s letting you stay, treat him, and “help” him…that was enough. 

You began picking up the pace, with faster and tighter strokes from his base to the tip. You saw Jervis slightly convulsing and his breathing became more raggedy and heavy. You were so focused on getting him to the precipice of pleasure that you almost didn’t feel his hand come up to your cheek. 

“C-can I…can we…k-kiss?” He managed through his groans and whimpers. 

The elation you felt as you happily leaned in and pressed your lips gently with Jervis’. You felt the quick intake of air through his nostrils. Your lips vibrated slightly as he groaned into your lips, before sighing contently. When you pulled back and broke the kiss, you smiled at the look of pure bliss on his face. 

A complete opposite of the stern, tensed forlorn expression he had when you first walked into the door. 

You removed your hand from the tub and got up and began actually drying off your hands and arms.

Jervis was about to finally get out of the water that has already gone cold a long time ago, but was taken aback by your next actions.  

Without so much as a second thought you removed your top and bottoms right there in front of him and changed into the light blue puffy shirt that he was supposed to change into. 

You didn’t notice how you absolutely stunted the neuroscientist as you quickly made your way out of the bathroom. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back with a change of clothes for you!” 

When the door shut and you left. Jervis was left alone again, to really let it all sink in what just transpired. 

The way his heart was skipping beats but with love and elation more so than anxiety and guilt. The smile on his face wasn’t turned up, crooked and mad. It was natural and it felt nice for once. 

Jervis quickly got out before you could shock him again and began drying himself off. His back was towards the door as you opened it with a fresh shirt, pants, and underwear. You slowly crept behind him and put your hands over his eyes. 

Jervis gasped slightly from the shock, before chuckling at your playfulness. 

“Guess who?” You whispered sing-songy in his ear. 

“Hmm…oh is it the Cheshire Cat? The Carpenter? Or-or the Walrus?”

You laughed softly. “Nope, I’m actually invited to the Tea Party.” 

“Dormy?” 

You shrugged. “On my more sleepy days, absolutely.”

“Oh, I know.” Jervis reached up and grabbed your hands and removed them from his eyes. He turns around and smiles at you. “It’s my darling March Hare.”

“But of course.” You smiled as you pulled him into your arms. You gave him a kiss on his nose and reluctantly let him go. 

“I’ll let you get dressed, its not too late and I doubt you’ve eaten anything. I’ll make something quick and then we can head to bed, how does that sound?” You opened the door, about to head to the kitchen. 

Jervis smiled widely, beaming with happiness and love he hasn’t felt in such a long time. “That sounds splendid, my dear.” 

“Perfect! See you soon!” With that you left the bathroom again and began whipping some stuff up in the kitchen. 

As he changed, Jervis couldn’t help but smile in pure delight. All his memories and thoughts that were weighing on him and suffocating him finally dissipated like steam from a tea pot. He had someone that cared for him, not just for what he could do but for who he is. 

The notorious Mad Hatter of Rogue Gallery infamy. The lonely wretch that is Jervis Tetch. 

When he is with you. He felt he actually had a chance.

[chocolate-theft]

☆ 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 ☆

Fandom: Dead By Daylight. Rating: Teens And Up Audience, sfw. Characters: Pyramid Head, Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face. Pairing: Pyramid Head x Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face.

Tags: Pyramid Head's pov, fluff, adoration, established relationship, typical cute couple stuff, short and sweet, cheesy asf, Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face has green eyes, maskless Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face, soft Pyramid Head, smitten Pyramid Head, lowkey/borderline simping [Pyramid Head💀], short fic, too ALPHA to beta read, very self-indulgent.

WARNINGS: NONE.

Summary: The Executioner enjoys the beauty in his Beloved Ghost’s eyes.

– Word count:626.

Author's note:

Wrote this in the Tumblr’s draft (instead of focusing on writing my main wips), so why not post it because I'm bored and also because there's not enough PyraGhost in the world.

I will probably come back to edit and add things in this fic later since like there’s gonna be some incomprehensible pharsings and errors here and there, ofc because I literally wrote this in Tumblr’s draft, put it in Google Docs just to see the word count and copy paste in here– BAM!! Then finished!

The green line dividers aren't mine btw.

Embracing my Tumblr fanfic writer era rn.

────────────────────────────

Every inch that Danny possessed was something to be held deeply treasured to Pyramid Head.

Back then Pyramid Head used to be hesitant to reach out and touch Danny, quite wary that he would somehow break the man if he applied too much pressure. He knew Danny would be slightly annoyed by this; claiming that he wasn't that weak, but that didn’t stop Pyramid Head from being apprehensive when it came to him. Fortunately, as things progressed Pyramid Head became at ease as Danny reassured that he wasn't hurting him. 

Him having this affection towards Danny was so beyond that even the basic description of him just loving Danny was an injustice on how he truly felt. 

Even though Pyramid Head wasn't the type to care about other people's characteristics, he was utterly entranced by Danny, anything from head to toe, as well as his hands, his voice, and the way he carried himself. Everything.

And when Danny showed his face to him for the first time, enrapture swept over Pyramid Head. His immediate response was to stretch his hand to stroke Danny's ebony locks of hair in which the other man found it endearing as Pyramid Head ruffled his hair gently.

But what captivated Pyramid Head's heart the most, once he took a moment to observed Danny's face. Amused gloomy emerald were peering at him back. This caused Pyramid Head to stop doing what he was doing. The more he fixated on Danny’s eyes the more he felt lost in the glamours' greenery.

────────────

In the present, Danny was not currently wearing his usual Ghostface mask around Pyramid Head which wasn’t uncommon ever since he had grown to trust him as Danny was comfortable enough to be displaying his own actual face to his partner only. Right now they were just spending the day with one another, making up for the lost time they were busy with their trials. Danny shared a few horror tales that greatly interested him, prompting Pyramid Head to listen, producing soft grunts while the other proceed. But Pyramid Head was intensely concentrating on the different expression Danny’s eyes make.

While it went on Danny began to notice that the other wasn't really paying attention, judging by how Pyramid Head practically stopped making quiet noises to what he was talking about and wasn’t moving. Then Danny waved his hands side to side in front of Pyramid Head. “Hey! Are you even listening to me?” Causing Pyramid Head to snapped back to reality, following the realization on what was going on. 

Oh. Was he distracted again? 

As awkward as it may have been given that for the entire time he was just focused on Danny’s eyes. 

“You’re spacing out lately.” Danny said. “Is there something bothering you?” 

There wasn’t anything bothering him, it was just his fascination with the green irises that belonged to the man. Pyramid Head shook his head.

Danny made a questioning face. “Hm. I doubt that.” Then the man’s lips swiftly formed into a grin, “you were staring at my eyes aren’t you~!” Pyramid Head was slightly thrown back by how Danny was able to jump to the correct conclusion so quick. But he knew that no matter the circumstances are, Danny was destined to read him like a book effortlessly. 

Pyramid Head uttered a gurgle of affirmation, seemingly out of embarrassment.

Danny became aware of this, “it’s fine Pyra! I just find it humorous. Plus, I don’t mind, you can stare at it as long as you like,” he chuckled. Relief essentially spread over Pyramid Head as he let out a deep breath.

“Never thought someone would be so enthralled by my eyes, you know?” 

Well, if no one was enthralled by it, then Pyramid Head definitely was.

Author's note:

Thanks for reading till the end! Hope you enjoyed it.

I should probably go back to writing my main wips. But I deadass get distracted often.

Here's my AO3 acc, if you like this pairing lol. Don't check it out if it's Monday since AO3 is down for planned maintenance for 10 whole hours, sad I know, just download fics you love in the meantime, we will live blud.

And that’s it for today... See you later, toodles!

[streets-in-paradise]

New Moves - Dastan x (Fem)Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 3.600 

Warnings: Dastan loosing his shit over a chubby, curvy reader and mutual teasing happening. 

Summary:  A childhood friend of Sharaman and Nizam returns to the capital of the empire with his daughter. Dastan was still a kid the last time she visited the palace and things didn’t work out very well. Their reintroduction as adults becomes his chance to make things up when he realizes he can’t stop laying eyes on her. 

Glossary: Shatranj - Persian game, predecessor of modern chess. 

Inspired by ♫: Princess of Cairo - Eli ( I listened to this while writing,you may want to check it)

Notes: I wrote this for me, so expect some self indulgence lol 

The governor of the most prosperous of the distant provincial corners of the empire was a man chosen because of his strong connections to the royal family, but always enjoyed proving his capacity. He never stayed in the capital for long, unless his presence would be required for a matter of war. A complex and crucial task was commanded to him when the king put him in charge of that territory, one that required the maximum commitment. Seeing him with his family was rare, but on that occasion he was about to become the one asking his friend for a committed favor. The protection of his most precious treasure, his young daughter, who was coming to spend a time on the capital as an obligated step to become a fully refined lady. 

Garsiv and Tus had to practically drag Dastan to the receivement. He didn’t have fond memories of her and he was pretty sure she didn’t have any of him either. They both were children at the time of her last visit, and for most of it he remembered bickering to no end. The one positive thing about it was that, although he didn’t remember the exact cause, it didn’t start with her being demeaning to him due to judging his origins. It was surely a silly matter of children, but she left furious and he didn’t like to remember that. 

“ Don’t worry, little brother. I bet she doesn’t even remember it.” Tus was attempting to calm him down. “ It happened so long ago… Why would she care?” 

“ Yes, you annoy us everyday and we still love you.” Garsiv added.” I remember she was very curious about you at first. Whatever happened between you, it was probably a misunderstanding.” 

“ One that made her despise me so much that she never came back.” Dastan recalled. “ Don’t try to make it seem smaller, I bet she still hates me.” 

“ Give yourself and her a second chance. “ Tus insisted, trying hard to be the voice of reason. “ You aren’t children anymore, she must have matured as much as you.” 

Garsiv bursted into laughter, showing blatant skepticism for that claim and frustrating all the good intentions of his eldest brother. 

“ Let’s hope her maturity outruns yours and Garsiv’s as well, for the sake of us all.” 

Dastan had little to no hope about that encounter, betting only on making it as less awkward as possible. He was not good at hiding his emotions, already famous for intempestive reactions, but he knew he couldn’t allow himself to accidentally offend her again. When the time came Tus went ahead first, making him wait for his turn to approach alongside Garsiv. The woman he saw cheerfully saluting his eldest brother was nothing like he would have expected from the girl he remembered. 

Only a shade of her remained in the soft features of her face. Her hair was longer, her eyes were more vivacious, her lips plumper and those weren’t the only side of her that seemed fuller. She was an exuberant beauty, her curves were impossible to hide even in a modest dress for travel. Her round hips swinging with each one of her confident steps got him way more distracted than what he should have allowed himself to be. 

That was how the youngest prince of Persia found you at the edge of your second introduction. To shamelessly check on you may haven’t been his intention, but you could tell he did by the drastic difference between his reaction to you and his brother’s next to him.

“ … and these are my brothers: Garsiv and Dastan. “  Prince Tus was reintroducing you all. “ … you may remember them.” 

One was looking at you with a cordial smile and welcoming demeanor, the other one seemed lost for any sort of intelligent response. 

“ I do.” You simply replied, your glance oscillated between one man and the other. “ The best Shatranj player I have ever met … and the boy who used to complain about being left behind to entertain me based on our similar ages because you don’t have any sisters.”  

" That will not be a problem anymore." Garsiv spoke for him. " Tus has many wives now, the palace is full of ladies and you will find no time to feel alone." 

You smiled at him in approbation of his sayings, but your attention was quickly back in the silent young brother. 

The surprise was mutual, although you were better prepared. Fame had warned you about the man he had become. A ferocious, unstoppable fighter bards often compared to a lion in their poetry. His stories were being sung at every corner of the empire and rumors said women were falling at his feet, since he was claimed to be the most wildly handsome man of the royal house. 

Gossips and legends turned out to be true and you felt the pride of the pioneer seeing it for yourself. He was your first crush, a failed one, back when people only acknowledged him as the street kid adopted by the king. You used to be fascinated with him, but he barely paid any attention to you. A matter of boys maturing slower than girls, your mother secretly explained to you a long time ago. At that age, he was surely clueless of what your reactions implied and the particular way in which you used to like him. Besides, the life he had before finding a family probably kept him used to being ignored. Getting attention was completely new to him, even more coming from a girl of his age. He didn't know how to react and neither of you were in good understanding of the situation because crushing was new to you as well. It was the recipe for an awkward dísaster, remembering it made you very curious about the effect that the changes of time had on him. 

The man in front of you was better looking than what the guesses of your imagination expected and he was noticing you. 

" ... Dastan." You called his name softly. " I hope to not be as boring and annoying to you as last time. " 

The eye contact was intense enough to weird the outside witnesses. 

" Surely not, my lady. '' Dastan replied, attempting to sound polite. In barely a moment you managed to make him feel regretful. " Welcome back! It has been so long since those simpler times. " 

You chuckled and he followed instinctively. 

" Of course, we all have changed. " You agreed, getting back into a more composed self. " Do you still play, Garsiv?" 

" I do, although not as often. " the prince answered ríght away, hoping the tension between his brother and you would be over. " I switched the playing board for real strategy planning in warfare. " 

" Bring it back anytime, I will be waiting. " 

You were drumming your fingers on top of the skirt of your dress, involuntary reflex of your genuine excitement, but Dastan couldn't help himself from being caught by it. He felt very wrong for noticing a glimpse of how thick your thighs probably were underneath. 

" I hope you will join us someday for a round, Tus. I haven't had the pleasure of playing against you. " He heard you following the conversation with his brothers, not long before you were back at him

 " How about you, Dastan? Back then you used to be a beginner player, I remember that Nizam was instructing you and he used to watch us play... Have you been practicing?"

He felt some of his usual flirty cheekiness slowly restauring. 

" I'm full of new moves to show you, I will not disappoint this time."

The encounter with more nobles forced a distraction and you had to excuse yourself from the royal trío to salute other people. 

As soon as you were away from them, sibling bickering started. 

" What's wrong with you?" Tus nagged Dastan. " Instants before you didn't even want to show up and now this?" 

" Dastan is not in his ríght mind at the moment. " Garsiv pointed out. " Look at him, his head is empty." 

" I'm surprised, that's all." The youngest defended himself. " Tus was ríght, she became a woman... and she is a very particular woman." 

" Particularly beautiful, eh?" The eldest teased him. " We saw you, we have an approximate idea of what's going through that little empty head of yours." 

" Just a bit of advice: don't take her to a tavern full of your uncivilized friends. She would cause a scandal just for entering there. Quite a few unrefined men would express rudely the same things you are thinking about her developed body of grownup girl." 

" Her provincial life must have made her used to that, Garsiv. Our local savages are gentlemen in comparison to theirs." 

Dastan was getting tired of their different versions of lecturing him. 

" Are you two giving me dating advice for a woman we just met? The one who clearly remembers I was awful to her when we were children for some reason I am not sure yet?" 

" Figure out what happened and fix it. " Garsiv concluded. " From all of us, she seems excited about you the most. "

His brother had a point and he was aware of that. Unfortunately, Dastan didn't find as many chances to put the advice in practice because you became harder to find than initially expected. Since you were actively choosing to socialize in the circle of Tus' wives like it was suggested to you, the younger prince was deprived of chances of getting close to you during the first few days. 

Exchanging furtive glances in the dining hall was pretty much all he got around that time. He would often wink at you from afar, inviting you to come closer, but you would only smirk in return. 

It was driving him insane, ironically punishing him for the perceived mistreatment of the past. He had no idea of when it would be over, but he was growing desperate. You didn't seem upset, but you were enjoying yourself playing with him and he was foolishly following your games. Chazing you subtly, waiting for the ríght moment to prove himself to you. 

The occasional rounds of Shantraj could have been a good opportunity, if you wouldn't have challenged everyone else first. He was being left for last on purpose, he had no doubt of that. After your expected turn to play against Garsiv like in the old times, you asked to face Nizam. It didn't work out well, he warned you about that before starting, but you wanted to obtain from it more valuable outcomes than the round's results. Reminding him of when he used to play with your father as kids and get both of them to share once more the playing anecdotes from their childhood friendship. 

After that, the following round was against Tus. Dastan was sure he would be the next one and he came up with an idea while he was watching you play against his eldest brother for the first time. 

He would make sure you would be playing against him and he would make you bet, obtaining more than just vindication from the victory. The truth, you would have to explain yourself to him about the past.

You defeated his eldest brother, all your moves played with fearless precision. Your acts could have been perceived as insolence, but that didn't matter to you at that particular round. Humiliating the heir of the persian throne worried you way less than hurting the ego of his uncle. 

" Congratulations! You have proved yourself well versed in games. " Tus cheered you. " However, I would love to play a new round soon. I shall vindicate myself. "

You smiled in return, he was clearly not the sort of man that would feel dismissed with your victory. 

" Of course! And as we are speaking I want to thank you. I'm learning a lot from your wives, sir. All lovely women who have received me so kindly. " 

" Haven't us, the lords of the land, done the same?" Garsiv snarked, clearly aiding Dastan although more mischievously than helpfully. " You are welcome to join us anytime, not just for games. My sisters in law see you so often that they may start thinking you are about to join them permanently." 

The joke didn't suit you right. He noticed it and didn't insist with it. 

" My father wants to find me a husband in the capital, he is here for advice from his greatest friends and thinks i haven't notice it. " You calmly explained. " The province has become a dangerous place for me. Many men that want me, he disapproves. Many men I disapprove want me. " 

Dastan feared that could be a callout to him, but said nothing. 

" King Sharaman and Lord Nizam are being consulted about it as we speak. Yesterday I could have tried winning, but I chose not to. Never piss off the man that holds your destiny in his hands. " 

You were opening up the them for real and the younger prince was craving to comfort you. 

"  Fate it's yours to decide. " He spoke softly to you. " ... But if you ever need a defender to protect your will of choice, my mouth and arms will be there for you. " 

Tus and Garsiv stared at each other in a desperate attempt to stiff their chuckles. Their little brother didn't pick the best word choices for his phrasing. 

He meant he would support you with his words and actions, but it almost sounded like an ' i'm yours to take' sort of statement. 

" That's very sweet, Dastan." You humbly and sincerely thanked him. " Between us? I'm particularly worried about your uncle's opinion. The Shantraj game was my attempt to show him I want to stay on his good side." 

The three princes were amused by the implications of your confession. You, the overconfident girl who came one day to make Dastan go insane, were surprisingly afraid of their uncle. Scared enough to show vulnerability, to pause your silly game in seek of shelter from the danger. 

" Are you afraid of Nizam?" Garsiv asked. " For real? Since when? That's absurd! " 

" Darling, there is nothing to be afraid of!" Dastan followed him, seeking to calm you with the purest sweetness. " Tell me this... Are you afraid of me?" 

He was waiting for your answer with the cutest smile and you couldn't help feeling a bit weak for him. 

" No, not at all. " 

" Then don't be afraid of him, we are very alike. I aspire to be like him someday. " 

They weren't, not to you at least. There were certain things that you had kept hushed for many years, just like the secret of that old crush. 

" Are you going to ask me now what happened for real the last time I was here or were you planning to compete for the truth?" 

" She got you, little brother. " Tus mocked Dastan. " She still remembers you are easily vulnerable to challenges. " 

" I almost jumped from a rooftop following him once. " 

" ... And I would have certainly catched you in my arms before letting you fall, if you would have climbed there with me." Dastan defended himself again. " If you would have trusted me." 

" How? Even when I was slimmer, I was still too heavy for you to hold me."  

He stood up out of sudden and his brothers had the certainty that he was about to do something recklessly stupid. 

" Let me lift you. I'm sure I was strong enough then and I am even stronger now. " 

The proposal left you in weird disbelief. 

" Now that is truly absurd! Why does that matter now? " 

" If you feel safe in my arms, that means you were wrong about me; and if you were wrong about me you have to accept you can be mistaken about Nizam." 

It didn't sound any smarter, but your heart raced to the thought of being held in his arms. 

" Alright, but this has nothing to do with my lack of trust in your uncle's judgment. " 

You stood up in front of him with a challenging demeanor, willing to let Dastan try picking you up. To your great surprise, he accomplished it with ease.

 In the blink of an eye he was carrying you bridal style. Being so close to him in such a strange context may not have been the ideal, but it felt really good. The closer look to his gorgeous face, your body softly pressed against his torso while his arms were holding you tight

... and that damn irresistible charm of his...

It was a great move played against your resistance. 

" How are you feeling, pretty one?" 

You felt that tease to the deepest corners of your being. 

" Safe, indeed... But I bet you wouldn't be able to carry me around the palace." 

Dastan began to walk out of the room, no hesitation and no warning. 

" See you later, my brothers! I'm going to show her around." 

As simply as that, you both disappeared from their sight. He heard you chuckling all the way out, but the laughing stopped when you realized he wasn't pulling you down any soon. 

It was his first time in days to be all alone with you and you had gifted it to him accidentally, falling for his games. 

" It's alright, you proved your point and it has been very funny. You can let me go now.." 

" What if I don't want to?" He playfully commented. " Tell me the truth you owe me first." 

You were visibly annoyed, but couldn't stay mad at him. 

" You weren't the reason why I never wanted to come back, even when my father travels here often and I could have asked him anytime. " You began to explain. " It was Nizam." 

Dastan was looking at you like a confused puppy, but didn't interrupt you. 

" He was quite nice to me before, but when i started to seek getting close to you his attitude changed. I'm going to be completely honest: i had a crush on you. He noticed it and I think he was disappointed of me for that, maybe thinking that the daughter of a governor wasn’t good enough for you even when said man is his friend. I was little and it hurted me, not only because I used to like him. He used to look at us with sarcastic disgust … and then one day. I heard him when I wasn't supposed to, he said such horrible things about me. It broke my heart, I never looked at him the same way. The fact that he will be consulted in the choice of my husband scares me to death." 

He looked amazed, like if he wouldn't have paid any attention to anything after your ' I had a crush on you'. 

Neither of you knew your assumptions were wrong or could have possibly imagined that. Those horrible insults you heard from Nizam weren't meant for you. He didn't want Dastan near you. It was his adoptive nephew who he judged in the most demeaning way and not the other way around. 

" A misunderstanding with my uncle broke your heart, not me. " He summarized, as if he was trying to make it make sense. " I didn't behave at my best with you and I had no idea you felt that way for me... Are you still sure it wasn't me?" 

"You were merely treating me like a silly little boy dealing with an annoying little girl who wants to be around him all the time for reasons he doesn't understand. " You insisted, fairly justifying him. " You didn't catch a single one of my signals, but it was ríght there. I must admit it was a very frustrating first experience for me, Dastan." 

He raised an eyebrow, looking at you with skeptical curiosity. 

" Is that why you keep frustrating me? Hiding from my sight in the rooms of the women to punish me, making me crave to see you once more day after day."  

It sounded almost as if he was begging for it to be over. The light shade of sadness in his face was making you melt for him. 

" Can you blame me? You look so cute when I catch you looking at my chest. Short peeks when you think no one else is noticing, but I do... and you haven't got a chance of watching me dance yet! I wonder where your eyes will stop first then. " 

He released you immediately, carefully and securely as he promised. You could tell he was perhaps a bit ashamed. 

" Feel no shame, my prince. Until quite recently I used to believe mine was the most provocative chest in the empire." You softly comforted him, then started running your fingertips through the límits of his always partially open shirt. " Returning to the capital has opened my eyes." 

You were toying with his necklace, your eyes descending from his face to his chest and stopping there for an instant before doing all the way back. 

If you wouldn't have been in the middle of a hallway, Dastan could have been capable of taking off his shirt by himself for more of your attention.

" Look at you, disappointing Nizam all over again. " He teased you in a fake reprobatory tone. " You haven't changed at all. " 

" You neither, I bet you are still thinking about making me climb to that rooftop." 

The mention gave him an even better idea regarding the place of your old altercate. 

" Consider it from our current perspective. It's a distant spot where nobody would bother us and it offers an increíble view of the sunset." 

It was a date, you accepted the invitation carelessly for the plans for your future that were being discussed between your father and his friends. 

If Dastan was your fate, nothing and nobody would separate you from him. 

[agaypanic]

Hello!! It says that your Requests are open, so I wanted to srop this here: Could I please something with Malcolm (Wilkerson) and his gf being a bit insecure because she's chubby?? struggling alot lately and malcolm is a huge comfort character :3 ♡

(however, if youre not comfortable writing something like this, please ignore this!!thanks so much for doing what u do. i love ur work!!)

The Way You Are (Malcolm Wilkerson X Plus Size!Reader)

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Request Something!

Summary: Looking through Malcolm’s dating history, Y/n can’t help but feel a little insecure about herself. It’s a good thing that Malcolm’s always ready to reassure her of his feelings for her.

A/N: This is probably ooc but idc this is self indulgent

***

Dating Malcolm felt like a dream. He was sweet, considerate, and romantic. Sure, sometimes he overthought things that created tension between you, but you two always pulled through. Malcolm was everything you could’ve ever wanted in a boyfriend.

You just weren’t sure that you were everything he wanted in a girlfriend.

Now, you never really compared yourself to others. But it’s not like you had no idea about the girls Malcolm dated in the past, and how they all had at least one thing in common with each other, but you had seemingly nothing in common with them.

The thing that stood out most to you was the size difference. You knew that there was nothing wrong with you being bigger, but it’s not like you didn’t notice. It didn’t help that Malcolm was a bit of a twig.

“You okay?” Your boyfriend asked from the driver’s seat. The two of you were at a drive-in in a neighboring town, watching some movie you’d forgotten the name of.

“Huh?” It took you a second to register his question. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”

Malcolm turned down the radio tuned into the station for the movie audio before turning in his seat to face you.

“What’s wrong?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Saying you’re fine doesn’t usually mean you’re fine, Y/n.” He pulled one of your hands from your lap. “Are you feeling okay? Do you wanna go home?”

God, he was always so sweet to you. You knew he was also stubborn and wouldn’t drop it until you told him what was bothering you.

“Don’t make fun of me; it’s kinda stupid.” He just squeezed your hand, urging you to continue. You sighed. “I just… I couldn’t help but notice that I’m not that much like the girls that you dated before me.” He looked confused.

“So?”

“Well… why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you like me?” You didn’t mean to, but you were starting to get frustrated. You didn’t even really know why. “I mean, it’s obvious that I’m, like, the outlier when it comes to the girls that you’ve dated.”

“Y/n, why would that bother you?” The movie was now far away from both of your minds. Wanting to look anywhere but at him, your eyes drifted to the car next to you. A couple about your age was cuddled up in the front seat. The girl shivered, and after a moment of conversation, the boy pulled off his hoodie and gave it to her to put on. “Y/n, what are you looking at?”

Malcolm turned around and saw the sight in front of him, but when he turned around, he just looked more confused. You sighed in frustration. Why couldn’t you just say the shit that was bothering you? Why was vulnerability so awkward?

“We can’t do that.” You said meekly, pulling your eyes away from the random couple.

“They’re just cuddling; we do that all the time. Trust me, if this car had a bench seat, we’d be doing that right now.” You shook your head.

“She’s wearing his clothes, Mal. Look at us. We can’t do that.” Suddenly, Malcolm understood.

“Baby, you know I don’t care about your size, right?” You sniffled.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t care.”

“You shouldn’t.” He grabbed your other hand so he could hold both of yours in his. He leaned in as close to you as he could without going cross-eyed. “Y/n, I think you’re just as beautiful, if not more, as any other girl out there. We’re together for a reason; you’re it for me. I don’t want anyone else.”

You couldn’t help the tear that slipped down your cheek. You were so overwhelmed with feelings of self-doubt, but Malcolm knew how to replace that with love.

“I’m sorry for-”

“No.” Malcolm shook his head. “Don’t apologize. You don’t need to apologize, Y/n.”

Instead of responding, you kissed him. It was short and sweet, but it conveyed your thanks.

“After this, we should go to the mall,” Malcolm said when you parted.

“Why?”

“I wanna get some new clothes for my girl to look good in.”

[fallecee]

Subtle-ish { Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x Reader }

(can we for one second just imagine that this is how he’s looking at you? thank you and goodnight.) 

Summary: You’re kind of a tease, but something about Gaz is really getting to you. Is it even just teasing him anymore or are you hoping that he’ll actually take your flirting and longing glances serious? In other words, you play yourself and accidentally fall for the handsome sergeant. 

warnings: none, but reader is nearly salivating at Gaz. Not using “y/n” so its more immersive (lol). Probably OOC, still trying to get my footing. Use of they/them. 

author’s note: This is my first time attempting to write for any cod character, and its also my first fan fic, ever. Literally transitioning from writing for my literature class straight into self-indulgent stories. Also somehow this is real long, I cannot for the life of me write concisely. 

It wasn’t a secret that you liked to joke around, especially with people who were usually quiet or stoic in less than appropriate moments. There was plenty of those around at base, so you had your fun. Often it got you into trouble, little moments of awkwardness and unreciprocated banter were the norm before you were introduced to task force 141 for a joint operation. 

Sure, it was less than comfortable at first, maybe you weren’t being taken that serious, but your skills spoke for themselves. Pretty soon, your jokes were awarded little huffs of air in acknowledgement and maybe even a short chuckle on good days. But somewhere along the line, your banter had taken on a more flirty air. Frankly, it was hilarious the different responses and reactions you would get from each member, it amused you to no end. 

There was one time you had made Price crack when he had asked you for a lighter, and instead of handing it to him, you offered to light his cigar for him. You made sure to get as close as possible, pursing your lips in faux concentration and everything, only to bat your lashes at him while staring directly into his eyes. He got his cigar lit but he also got a charming wink from you. You remember him shaking his head while backing away from your close proximity, mumbling something under his breath that sounded like “goddamn tease...” in a rumbling low tone. Safe to say, you were hooked on the feeling.

Soap was easy enough to get flustered, always a gentleman but more than willing to throw back flirty remarks your way. You definitely felt the most comfortable teasing him with your gazes and touches, nothing too graphic, just enough to get his attention and win a charming smirk or laugh. Price was a hit or miss most days, either he’d give you a small smile while patting down his facial hair or he’d stare at you in amusement, but nothing more. Ghost was... hard to approach. You were honestly hesitant to do anything physical, never wanting to push it too far, but he didn’t seem to mind your harmless flirting even if it was never reciprocated the way Soap did. 

But your favourite of them all of them was Kyle. He was just so... adorable. He had been the most welcoming of all, maybe it was because you were the closest in age but you tended to cling to him, especially when you had first joined forces. Never a step behind you, it was like you were always on the same page, whether it was sharing music or communication on the field. You knew he was physically attractive but you had never really looked. 

It might have started when you had become regular training and sparring partners. Price recognised your harmony and opted to keep you both training together most days. He liked to wear this black compression shirt while in the gym and it just... got to you. He was more lean than muscular, but god did he look good. It’s as if the shirt couldn’t get any tighter, accentuating every muscle in his back and upper arms. You felt like you were somehow being intrusive but you just couldn’t stop staring. He’d catch you and give you a boyish smile, probably thinking you’re watching him punch the bag or lift his weights which was definitely not what you were up to. So, naturally, in your mind your only remedy for the new hot pit in your stomach every time you looked at him, was to up the flirting.

That’s probably when it all went downhill, for you. 

You’d go out of your way to be around him whenever you could, convincing yourself it was because he was the most fun to be around. Definitely wasn’t because he smelt like a mix of amber, wood and some cologne he’d borrowed from Soap. It most certainly wasn’t because he radiated a heat that you just gravitated towards, and it wasn’t his habit of checking in with you after every briefing and meeting to ask how you were. You’d steal a look whenever you could, leaning into his space like you were just naturally drawn to him. Suddenly it was like you had opened your eyes for the first time. Even your usual fist bumps before every mission or your sharing of earphones left a warm smile on your lips in a whole new way. You were going insane, and the feeling was addictive.

You tried staying subtle, balancing between genuine and playful flirting, not ready to reveal any of your feelings to him or anyone, not even yourself. You’d hold eye contact with his warm rich brown eyes for a little longer, linger closer to him, ask him more questions to hear his voice for longer. Your flirting was relentless and the way the tips of his ears would burn and how he’d look down at the floor while letting out a breathy laugh at your antics was becoming more than addictive, you wanted to get him flustered all the time. But it was definitely just because it was funny, and not because he looked so cute trying to hide his embarrassed smile. 

The breaking point was when he’d asked you to hold up some pads so he could practice his punches. You’d happily obliged, unaware that it meant you’d spend hours in front of a sweaty, panting Kyle in his damned black compression shirt. You were really trying to concentrate, truly, but it was just so hard. After every few quick succession punches he’d stop and tip his head back, as if clearing his head. You were practically whimpering at the sight of his neck fully extended, the sigh leaving his lips as he took a quick break. Your mind was stuck on the way the sweat from his face dripped down, down, down, that you had completely missed your cue to move your hand to meet his punch when you realised he’d started again - his jab hitting you square at the side of your jaw. 

You didn’t even register what had happed till you looked at Kyle’s concerned eyes. It took you a few seconds to even realise his hand was on your jaw, stroking where he had hit you, an apology coming out of his mouth at a rapid pace. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise you weren’t ready! It doesn’t hurt too much does it? God-” he was inspecting every inch of your face in concern. 

“Gaz, I’m fine, really.” At your reassurance a playful half-smile flashes across his lips. “Distracted are we?”

If you could scream right then, you would. Because you were distracted, and now you were humiliated at the thought that he’d practically caught you ogling him like you were starving. “Keep it in your pants, Garrick.” Really he should be saying that to you. “What? Not gonna flirt back? Must really have you under my thumb then.” 

Your eyes shot up at that. “Wait hold on-” 

“Why do you think I wear this shirt? I feel your eyes on me every time I wear it. I’m flattered, really, It’s like you’re ripping it off of me in your head the way you stare.” He was just bragging now, he’d caught the supposed flirt with hearts in their eyes. “This is cruel.” is all you could manage under the weight of his playful gaze. “Come on, one more round and I’ll let you help me take the shirt off.” 

There it is, you were done for. 

All the blood in your body shot up to your face, and he definitely noticed how wide your eyes went. Laughing endearingly at how much of an effect he had on you, the untouchable tease. 

From across the gym stood Soap and Ghost mid spar who had turned around at the sound of Kyle’s misplaced punch.

“Think they’ll stop calling me pretty boy now?” Soap is practially beaming a smile watching you put the pads back up ready to catch Gaz’s punches.

need him SOOOOO BAAADDDDDD

[ghostofadeadpoet]

A Wes Anderson-esque Review of The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar

July 8th, 2074

“Images do not stay in my memory for long. It’s a curse I have been dealing with throughout my life. I forget the face of every person I meet, which sometimes even includes my close friends. To my fortune, I am gifted with the ability to remember words. I can memorise an entire book of 3000 pages by reading it just once,” he says as he finishes his meal.

“That’s incredible. You must have read a lot of books,” I say.

“In my younger days, I’d fritter my time away reading hundreds of books which never piqued my interest. I did it because it seemed to be the best use of my ability until I realised that it was my fellow humans who fascinated me. I took more joy in conversing with a random stranger during travel than in reading Sartre.

Which brings me to the creepiest aspect of my ability, which is that I can recite a whole conversation I had with another person word-for-word. The time and place of the conversation don’t matter in the least because I remember every word every person spoke in front of me ever since I was five years old.

Now, at my frail old age, death looms over me and most people I’ve met in my life have passed away. But they were never forgotten, and I must ensure, at the best of my ability, that it remains that way, which is why I asked you to create this collection of interesting conversations I had over the years.”

I assure him with a smile.

“So, shall we start?” he asks.

“Sure, do you have anything in mind for the first one?”

“Yes, I do. I want to kick off with something light-hearted.”

“Good to hear.” I press record on my device. “You can start,” I say.

“The following is a conversation I indulged on 28th September 2023 with a man whose name I didn’t bother to ask.

Before the city became uninhabitable due to climate change, Chennai used to be densely populated, where summers lasted for ten months. I was in the backseat of an autorickshaw, the one where you share the ride. I was accompanied by a young man in his mid-20s, whose face I don’t remember. Not even the details, there weren’t any oddities about him. He probably looked like everyone else.

Most people don’t like to be bothered and are comfortable with being quiet. People who’d like to be bothered become restless when in front of abject silence. Symptoms: tendency to be fidgety and shaky legs. It’s not always the case but you can rely on it as an effective measure to avoid throwing yourself into awkward situations.

To my luck, he was kind enough to take the burden of having to start a conversation away from me. He pointed at some place which was likely a house or an apartment complex and said, “That’s where I grew up.”

I’ll spare you the small talk. He was a screenwriter and was involved in the cinema business, something that I always ignored due to my condition. A famous filmmaker, Wes Anderson, had released a short film called “The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar.” I lied that I knew about this director and he didn’t think twice before he started to talk about his experience of watching the film.

On the surface, it seems like a gimmick. Anderson, who is a student of French New Wave films must just be paying tribute to Truffaut’s Day For Night. But for FOUR CONSECUTIVE FILMS? There must be something more to it, and Henry Sugar helped me figure it out.

Suspension of disbelief takes place when a reader or a viewer is completely immersed in the world created by the author where the illusion is so strong that the laws of reality don’t matter anymore. Every film has its own unique set of rules, colours, costumes, style of acting, etc., Everything must come together as a cohesive experience for the audience to be immersed. If a film strays away from its ‘rules,’ let’s say the colour tone of Grand Budapest Hotel suddenly changes to the one from Asteroid City, or Adrien Brody gives a Shakespearean monologue in The Darjeeling Limited, the illusion will be broken.

The more whimsical the ‘rules’ are, the harder it is to establish them. It’s easy to set up a film like Rushmore where the ‘rules’ are somewhat grounded in reality. Isle of Dogs and Fantastic Mr. Fox had the luxury of being animated. The same can’t be said for his recent live-action films where the characters don’t talk or act like real people. Thus, the story-within-story trope allows Wes Anderson to establish his world. Henry Sugar takes it to the extreme with its frequent fourth wall breaks, allowing Wes Anderson to not be limited by expectations of realism and conventional storytelling.

Asteroid City, for example, could work without Bryan Cranston’s TV show segments, but they embellish the overall experience. When a film called Asteroid City starts with a character saying “Asteroid City does not exist,” you observe the movie and its characters from a detached perspective.

As soon as I finished watching The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar, I read the original short story by Roald Dahl. I know film adaptations that are better than their source material, but I’ve never seen a filmmaker take an awful book and make it charming. Wes Anderson uses a fusion of audiobook and stage-play style of narration where the characters narrate the action instead of performing it. The visuals exist merely as an aid and not the primary storytelling device. You can understand 95% of the film with your eyes closed.

Roald Dahl makes the classic mistake of ‘telling’ and not ‘showing’ throughout the story which takes the reader out of the immersion. Anderson, on the other hand, takes it to the extreme to the point it is ridiculous. It takes you out of the immersion as well but in a good way,” he paused.

“I think I have to get down here. It was nice talking to you,” he said. We shook hands and he got out of the autorickshaw.”

“It wasn’t exactly a conversation, was it? It was more of a monologue,” I say.

The old man shrugged.

“Did you watch the film?” I ask.

“I did. Many times, actually. I used to resist cinema because ‘what’s the point if I can’t remember any of the frames’ but then when I rewatched The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar, I realised that I could experience the cinematography again and feel the same way I did for the first time, a luxury I never had with words. I could never feel anything when my wife tells me that she loves me because I remember the ten thousand times she said it before. It’s good to forget just a little.

I began to appreciate the images I encounter in my everyday life. Every time I look at the eyes of the love of my life, I see the glint in her eye with affection I’ve never seen before. And of course, I began to appreciate cinema. Although, I don’t remember many of the films, except for some Wes Anderson that were basically audiobooks.”

“Why didn’t you ask his name?” I ask.

“I never thought about it. Perhaps the ‘monologue,’ as you’d call it, made me see the beauty in the unknown.”

I stop the recording.

“It was nice talking to you. I will write them down, and uh…”

“You can call me,” the old man writes down his number on a tissue paper and hands it over to me.

“Thank you so much,” I say as I get up from my seat.

“And my name is”

“No. Let’s not share our names,” I say with a smile.

I leave the dining hall to return to my hotel room. On my way in the elevator, I open my device to add The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar to my watchlist.